Mud
by ML Only
Summary: The FINAL chapter, chapter 22 now posted, ML, Series 1, post Haven. With the assistance of Zack, Max and Logan have to restore the reputation of Eyes Only.
1. Default Chapter

Title: Mud  
  
Time Frame: Series 1, post Haven  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Dark Angel; I just like to write about it.  
  
My many thanks to my beta, Alaidh.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Matt Sung turned his coat collar up against the biting cold, and thrust his hands deep into his pockets, looking about him with a sigh.  
  
The disused wharf where he had planned to meet Logan Cale, his contact with Eyes Only, was a depressing testimony of what Seattle had once been - flourishing and affluent. Now, like the wharf, much of it was seedy and run- down, and it was becoming increasingly obvious that much of the town would have to be gutted before the city could reclaim it's former beauty and style.  
  
The early morning fog hung damp and heavy in the air, swirling it's long tendrils around the line of disused warehouses, permeating all that stood in it's way, just as the evil permeated Seattle. Somewhere in the distance came the muffled sound of a foghorn, lonely and desolate, as if in mourning for the wreck Seattle had become.  
  
With a quick glance at the time, he watched warily as a car slowly headed up the wharf, his hand going to the inside of his coat in a gesture of ever- present vigilance. Relieved, he could now make out the car to be a rather dirty blue Aztec. Turning to his own car he pulled out a folder and headed towards Logan.  
  
"Hey, Matt. What have you got for me?" asked Logan as he drew alongside Matt, his car window down, ready to talk.  
  
The two men were a complete contrast: the one clean shaven, immaculately groomed, eyes bright regardless of the early hour, whereas the driver of the blue Aztek was unshaven, hair every which way, eyes slightly bleary behind a pair of steel framed glasses, and on the whole, decidedly scruffy even though the quality of his clothes would indicate him to be a man of considerable means.  
  
"Sorry about the early hour," apologized the Asian detective, a contrite look on his face when he saw Logan's disheveled look, "but I can only let Eyes Only have these files for a short while."  
  
"That's fine, Matt. Eyes Only sure appreciates the effort you've gone to on this," answered Logan, taking the file handed to him through the car window.  
  
Matt watched him quietly for a moment while he scanned the sheaf of papers, then turned his attention to their surroundings, searching the wharf for any indication they were not alone.  
  
Logan gave a low grunt of disgust. "Well, here's another example of one of Seattle's fine upstanding citizens." Logan voice was heavy with sarcasm.  
  
"Yeah, a real solid guy," agreed the detective.  
  
Logan threw the file onto the seat beside him in a gesture of disdain; as if the loathsome nature of the crimes within the file permeated the very paper they were written on.  
  
For a moment, a feeling of helplessness and frustration swept over Logan, as he stared out at the dismal buildings before him, in his own mind the seediness of the wharf reflecting the seedy life of the man in the file. It seemed that for every criminal Eyes Only exposed, there was another one as bad or worse, to take his place. Would it ever end?  
  
Sensing a little of what he was feeling, Matt Sung eyed him with empathy. "It never ends, does it? Welcome to a policeman's lot." With his green eyes still surveying the dismal scene, Logan frowned, "Don't you ever feel like putting all the scum in one large room, with some C4 to keep them warm."  
  
"Ah, but then I'd be a vigilante, not a policeman."  
  
"Sometimes I feel the idea has merit," responded Logan, darkly.  
  
"What would Eyes Only say to that?"  
  
Logan thought for a moment then, not entirely answering the question, replied, "I think he'd say you're a good man, Matt."  
  
"And a busy one," replied the detective, not ungrateful for the compliment. "I'd better get going."  
  
With a nod towards the file Logan said, "I'll pass this stuff on to Eyes Only. I know he's thankful for all you do."  
  
"Well, I hope he appreciates the sleep you miss on his behalf as well."  
  
Logan smiled at him easily. "Nothing a shower and breakfast can't fix. I'll be in touch." With a nod towards the file he added, "How soon do you want these back?"  
  
Matt looked at the files, considering things for a moment. "Tomorrow night at the latest," he finally said.  
  
"Can Eyes Only run a copy of it?" asked Logan hopefully  
  
Matt shook his head emphatically. "No way. They'll scan for that."  
  
"Fine," agreed Logan, musing inwardly that he'd be very busy for the next two days.  
  
"I'll be seeing you then." Matt gave a small wave and hurried back to his car.  
  
**************************************************************************** ******  
  
Bling had arrived by the time Logan got home.  
  
His trainer eyed him with surprise. "You're up early."  
  
"I had a meet with Matt Sung," answered Logan, wheeling through to his desk and dumping the file next to his computer before heading to the kitchen to make some breakfast.  
  
"You look like you could do with this," Bling remarked, handing him a cup of coffee.  
  
Logan accepted it gratefully. "There's an awful lot going down at the moment." With a shake of his head and a worried note in his voice he added, "I sure hope Eyes Only can keep up with it."  
  
"Only one way to deal with any problem," Bling answered him, the hint of a smile on his face.  
  
Logan looked up at him suspiciously. "You aren't going to mention the 'P' word are you?"  
  
Bling merely looked at him.  
  
"Well I'm not up to that lecture on an empty stomach," grimaced Logan.  
  
"Watcha doin'?" said a voice from the entrance.  
  
"About to have breakfast," answered Logan, thankful for Max's appearance.  
  
"I was hopin' you were gonna say that," she smiled at him, then noting his jacket she asked with some surprise, "You been out already?"  
  
"Had a meeting with Matt," Logan threw over his shoulder, as he rummaged in the refrigerator for their breakfast. "You want eggs on toast?"  
  
"Sure. Sounds good." Max knew that Logan's idea of eggs on toast was far more exotic than the name implied. "And I was right." she mused to herself sometime later, a satisfied smile on her face, her stomach comfortably full. "So, who's the latest scumbag to make the Seattle top ten list?" she asked Logan.  
  
"More like top one thousand," was Logan's reply.  
  
Max thought he sounded a bit down. With a tentative look on her face she said, "We've got a thing happening at Crash tonight. It's Sketchy's birthday. You wanna come?"  
  
Logan pushed himself away from the table with his hands, heading towards his computer. "I've only got this file for the next two days. It's gonna keep me busy."  
  
"Well," thought Max, "it was as good an excuse as any other he'd come up with it." She stood up from the table, following him to his computer. Putting her mouth close to his ear she predicted, "One day you're gonna say yes." And then with a sassy backward glance at him, she made her way out.  
  
"One of these days she might just stop asking," warned Bling, who'd passed by at that moment.  
  
Throwing a look at Bling and muttering "Suits me fine," he booted up his computer and, with a certain amount of reluctance, picked up the file.  
  
**************************************************************************** ******  
  
Logan worked steadily on the file all that day. It never failed to amaze him, when he worked on these Eyes Only cases, the ingenuity of the criminal mind in evading detection with the most intricate of plans, eventually to be tripped up on a small detail overlooked, as had happened in this case - in an unusual twist Logan was going to be able to nail him because of an overdue bill. It afforded him some sense of satisfaction.  
  
Unfortunately, the following day, things didn't run as smoothly for Logan: for some reason the phone ran hot with calls from others on the informant net which, while important, were a constant interruption to the work he was doing on the file.  
  
Anxiously trying to process the file, Logan could sense the day slipping away from him, and he had to meet Matt at 9pm.  
  
Midway through the day, Bling insisted he come away from the computer for a while and do his reps, telling Logan he'd have trouble finding the time to assist him later as he had to go out and wait in one of the now inevitable lines for gas, as the Aztek was almost on empty.  
  
Less than enthusiastic, Logan applied himself mechanically to the task at hand, earning little praise from his trainer.  
  
"Well, no danger of you burning out on today's effort," was his comment to Logan at the end of the session.  
  
"Yeah, whatever."  
  
"Now computer burn out, that's another matter."  
  
"Well, I'just gotta get this done," was Logan's terse reply, returning to his computer.  
  
"I'm off to get the gas," Bling stated, knowing it was a waste of time arguing with him.  
  
"Fine," commented Logan, not taking his eyes from the screen.  
  
With a shake of his head, Bling let himself out.  
  
**************************************************************************** ******  
  
Logan forced himself to stop for a quick dinner, which he hardly tasted, then headed straight back to the file. By his calculations, he should just have enough time to complete all he had to do before giving it back.  
  
Unfortunately, the hand of fate conspired against him when the network crashed for 50 minutes, then there was a short brownout, leaving him staring at the computer in frustration.  
  
Bling's day had been no better - after standing in line for an hour and a half at one gas station, they were all informed that the gas had run out and to move on to another, which he did, but it meant he didn't get back to Logan's with the gas until nearly 8pm, and he was meant to be meeting a lady friend 15 minutes ago.  
  
By this time, the power had come back on, the net was working again, and Logan was furiously trying to finish off his work.  
  
Glancing at his computer clock, he was surprised to see Bling returning so late. "What happened to the date?"  
  
"Nothing I hope," responded the trainer. "I couldn't get much gas; they were rationing again, but it should last a few days. You're not planning any long trips are you?"  
  
"Not that I know of," Logan relied dryly - his last trip to Cape Haven only a week ago hardly inspired him to repeat the process, and he still had the bruise on his body to remind him of that memorable weekend - one he would now rather forget.  
  
Bling looked at his watch.  
  
Seeing the gesture, Logan said, "Get going."  
  
Bling hesitated. "I haven't filled the car yet."  
  
"I can do that. You've done more than enough for one day," Logan said, highly appreciative of the time Bling had spent standing in line on his behalf.  
  
Seeing Bling still hesitating, Logan said, "Go!" with more force.  
  
"Okay," Bling finally agreed. "I'll leave the cans here by your desk so you don't forget."  
  
Logan nodded, already with his head down in the file.  
  
"You goin' by yourself to meet Matt Sung?" asked Bling, as he put the can down.  
  
"Uh huh," was Logan's distracted reply.  
  
A look of dissatisfaction crossed Bling's face, but he merely said, "Take care."  
  
Logan murmured something in reply, which Bling took for a yes and, grabbing his coat, left the apartment.  
  
Some time later, Logan, with a glance at the clock and a sigh of relief, dumped the file in his lap and pushed himself away from the desk. His thoughts flashed back to when he was at Yale, and the number of times he'd had to work through the night to get a paper finished, managing to hand it in only minutes before the cut off time, usually the cause being some distraction of the female kind. 'If only,' he thought, ironically.  
  
He was in his bedroom putting his jacket on when his cell phone rang. With an annoyed grunt, he wheeled back to his desk where he'd left it, almost deciding not to answer it as time was so tight and he knew Matt had to get the file back, but then thinking it might be Matt, he changed his mind and picked up.  
  
As it turned out, it wasn't the detective, which, thought Logan, pretty well summed up the way his day had gone so far. Cutting the caller on the other end short, Logan said, "I'm sorry Paul, I gotta go now. I'll call you back."  
  
Putting his phone on top of the file in his lap, and then his keys there as well , Logan hurried to his car, musing that you could never do anything fast in a damned wheelchair.  
  
Getting to his car he hauled himself inside, irritated that the tricky process of getting his wheelchair in didn't run smoothly, and he was sorely tempted to damn the thing to hell and leave it there, but then figured knowing his luck today the thing would be stolen or he'd be caught out without it, so he struggled on, and with several curses eventually got it stowed.  
  
Feeling like a volcano about to explode, he roared out of the parking garage, thankful at last to be on his way to the meet, and hopefully not too late for Matt.  
  
The traffic was light, and for once it wasn't raining. Perhaps things are lookin' up, was his hopeful thought.  
  
The beeping of his phone interrupted his thoughts and, with an exasperated sigh, he realized he hadn't put the phone on 'hands-free', which meant he'd have to stop the car to take it. Tempted to ignore the call entirely, he pulled the car over and quickly checked who the incoming call was from. It was Matt.  
  
"Hey Matt, what's up?"  
  
"Logan. We need to change the meet locale. I've been held up the other side of town. Can you make it back to the wharf?"  
  
"Sure, but it will take me another 15 minutes to get there, as long as I don't get held up by any sector police."  
  
"Good. I'll see you there," Matt hung up, sounding a little harassed himself.  
  
"Must be one of those days for everyone," Logan mused to himself.  
  
He was about to pull back into the traffic, when his phone rang again. With an irritated glance he saw it was from one of his more paranoid informants. Feeling like that was the last person on earth he wanted to talk to at that moment, he did something he rarely did - he turned the phone off.  
  
Relishing the quiet for a few moments, he pulled out and turned the car in the opposite direction, now on his way to the wharf.  
  
**************************************************************************** ****  
  
"Hey Bling," greeted Max, surprised to see the trainer. "What happened to the hot date?"  
  
Bling smiled at her ruefully, looking up from Logan's computer. "We both got held up, so she made it for tomorrow night instead. Logan's out on a meet with Matt Sung," he continued, anticipating her next question. "I thought I'd just hang out here till he got back, makin' sure everything went down okay."  
  
Max frowned a little. "I wish he wouldn't do these night meets by himself."  
  
"I'll make you a coffee if ...." he was about to say if you like, but the words died on his lips, and instead he said, "Damn!"  
  
"What is it?" asked Max immediately.  
  
Bling motioned to the two cans of gas. "Logan was meant to put this in the car. He must have forgotten." With a shake of his head he muttered, "I knew I should have done it."  
  
"Has the car got any gas in it at all?"  
  
"It's got a little." Seeing the look on her face he added, "Should be enough to get to the meet and back."  
  
"What time was the meet?"  
  
"Nine."  
  
Max looked at her watch. It was a little after that now. "I'll give him a call."  
  
Bling watched her as she picked up Logan's home phone and dialed his cell. A look of frustration crossed her face. "He's turned it off. He never turns his cell off," she added, the look of frustration replaced by one of concern.  
  
"He's probably fine," Bling persuaded her, and seeing the look on Max's face wondered for the thousandth time why the two of them couldn't admit to each other what the rest of the world could so clearly see.  
  
**************************************************************************** ******  
  
The wharf was even more depressing at night than it had been in the morning, and Logan was glad to see the last of it.  
  
The meet with Matt had gone without hitch. He'd handed the file over; neither had bothered to get out of their cars, Logan simply passing the file down to Matt through their respective windows.  
  
The detective hadn't wasted any time in pleasantries. "Great. Gotta run," was virtually his only comment, his main concern to get the file back before it was missed.  
  
Watching him drive off, Logan was a little worried for him, hoping he'd make it back in time.  
  
Logan had just turned off the wharf when his glance fell on the fuel gauge. With a sinking feeling he realized that the now lit fuel light had caught his attention.  
  
He glared at the light in frustration, and then looked outside with a resigned look and said to no one in particular, "Well, everything else has gone wrong today." He stopped the car for a moment to consider his options: he knew he still had some time before the car was really out of gas, with any luck he could push on home and make it - but then, seeing how his luck had been running so far, he didn't feel particularly positive about that idea; Bling was out on his date, and Max .. well, he didn't really want to page Max to advertise his stupidity.  
  
"Damn!"  
  
In that moment a thought came to him: if he cut through the back way, he could save at least ten minutes of driving time, and that just might be enough to make the difference. There was only one thing about this scheme that made Logan hesitate - it meant driving through the gang area, the most notorious part of Seattle, and he could imagine what Max or Bling would have to say about that. What other option did he have? None that he could think of.  
  
With a decisive nod, he pushed hard on the accelerator, and headed the car in that direction.  
  
TCB 


	2. Inverness Road

Thanks for the great response to chapter 1!!!!! I really appreciate all those who took the trouble to  
  
review. Just to let you know, Inverness Road is fictitious.  
  
Many thanks to Alaidh for the beta and all her helpful suggestions!!!!  
  
Chapter 2  
  
So far so good, thought Logan, letting out a long breath.  
  
He was tenser about this than he would like to admit.  
  
He'd had Max do some recon for him in this area a few weeks ago, and he remembered what her opinion of it had been - in fact it had made him feel bad that he'd sent her there.  
  
Strangely enough, this area appeared almost deserted. A bit like rats fleeing a sinking ship, thought Logan, without humour.  
  
No sane person entered this quarter of town unless they held a scant regard for their own safety. What category does that put me in? he wondered, checking the fuel gauge for the umpteenth time. The fuel light still glared at him balefully.  
  
Inverness Road - said to be home to one of the worst gangs in Seattle, who were responsible for all manner of crimes. Some of their worst being random acts of violence were against innocent bystanders whose only mistake was to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.  
  
It was onto this road that Logan now turned.  
  
Heedless of speed restrictions, he drove hard; his only thought to get down that road as quickly as possible.  
  
Unlike most Seattle streets, there were no pedestrians he had to avoid, no prostitutes advertising their wares to possible customers, and no one warming their hands around a fire blazing in a drum.  
  
Only one lone figure staggered along the filthy sidewalk - apparently too drunk to think better of his decision.  
  
Logan was just beginning to feel a little more hopeful that he'd get out of there, when without warning, the car coughed once, lurched, then stopped.  
  
To Logan the silence was deafening.  
  
Raising his eyes heavenward, with remarkable self-control he resisted the urge to yank the steering wheel from the dash, or some other act of violence, and wondered just what it was he had done to invoke the anger of every vengeful spirit in Seattle.  
  
With another long sigh of frustration, he picked up his cell phone and turned it on, only to pause, regarding the device with some reluctance. The last thing he wanted to do was page Max and then have to explain how he'd got himself into this predicament, but he wasn't sure what other options he had. If only Bling were around. Feeling as though he had nothing to lose, he called his own apartment, just in case, and was surprised, but highly relieved to hear his trainer answer.  
  
"Logan, where are you?" came the deep voice down the line.  
  
Logan answered warily, "You know the cans of gas?"  
  
"I know - you forgot them. Found 'em here when I got back. So, you stuck somewhere?"  
  
In much the same tone as before, Logan said, "You know Inverness Road?"  
  
The tone of Bling's "Yes" told Logan that the trainer was well acquainted with that particular road - the, "What are you doing there?" in a voice slightly raised with incredulity told him what Bling thought about him being in that particular road.  
  
"Well obviously I wasn't out sight-seeing," was the sarcastic reply. "Can you take a cab and get the gas to me?"  
  
"No way any cab'll go down that street. I'll send Max. She's here next to me."  
  
"Max is there?" asked Logan with a sinking feeling.  
  
"She's been trying to contact you. You had your cell turned off," he added slightly disapprovingly. He then quickly said, "Wait a minute."  
  
Logan waited with the phone to his ear, the look on his face expressing more than words ever could.  
  
Bling came back on, saying, "Max is out the door as I speak. She said to tell you to wait in the car, and lock your doors."  
  
Invoking the power of the gods once again for patience, Logan managed to grind out admirably, "Gee, thanks Mom."  
  
He couldn't see Bling's grin at the other end.  
  
"Max said she'd be there in ten."  
  
Logan raised his brows at that; she'd be breaking a few traffic rules herself to get there that quickly.  
  
"Okay," he drawled back.  
  
"I'll be by the phone if you need me," were Bling's parting words.  
  
Putting his cell phone down, Logan did a quick check of his surroundings, and with an annoyed look, locked his doors. He wondered how long it would take to live this one down.  
  
Logan checked the time - again. About 8 minutes had passed.  
  
Time sure passed quickly when you were having fun!  
  
The drunk was still making his erratic way up the sidewalk, and would soon be passing close by Logan's car. Somewhere the deep boom, boom, boom, of someone's music thumped through the night, making Logan think of a documentary he'd seen where ritualistic drumming accompanied some pagan sacrificial ceremony - "No, maybe it was the X-Files," he muttered, scratching the back of his head.  
  
Thump. Thump. Thump.  
  
Startled, Logan looked up.  
  
A face was leering at him through the window.  
  
With relief, Logan saw it was the drunk, who looked even less appealing up close than he had from a distance. He seemed to be pantomiming the universal request of drunks everywhere - Can you give me a buck?  
  
Sensing this would be the only way to be rid of the man, Logan turned the key once, then pushed the button to let down his window, his other hand going to his pocket to pull out his wallet, his nose wrinkling in distaste as he was assailed with the pungent smell of the man. Without a word, but with a look that said 'Don't press your luck,' he handed the man ten dollars.  
  
In some unintelligible language, the man muttered his thanks and moved on. It was to be the last kind act he would receive in this life.  
  
The man shambled on, and Logan was left alone again to his thoughts. Disconcertingly he found himself thinking of Val. He wondered if she was still sober. It still hurt to remember his own gullibility in letting her hurt him yet again when she'd shown up those weeks back. For a moment he was lost in memories of their unhappy union, only to be jolted back to the present by the sight of a single light, still some distance away, but heading in his direction down the long, straight road.  
  
Max.  
  
In spite of his earlier thoughts, he was relieved to see the light of her bike, and a small smile lit his face.  
  
The drunk had staggered on another 100 metres, when to Logan's complete surprise, he saw him hurled into the air as if her were a puppet, and his mind strained to take in the fact that the building adjacent to where the drunk had been walking, was no more.  
  
Ducking instinctively, Logan held his breathe as dust and debris rained down on his car, and the world seemed to turn black.  
  
************   
  
Max, with the two cans of gas strapped to her Ninja, turned onto Inverness Road, and with her remarkable eyesight was able to make out Logan's Aztec still some way down the road. "Logan Cale," she murmured with a shake of her head, "I'm gonna be puttin' the smack down on you for this!"  
  
The next moment, with lightning fast reflexes, she squeezed hard on her front brake, then flung the bike to the left, in the same instant jabbing the rear brake, locking the wheels, and sliding to what, in the circumstances, was a remarkably graceful halt.  
  
She could no longer see Logan's car. In desperation, she waited for the dust and debris to settle, flinching as she saw the body of a man hit the ground some 30 yards in front of her, his head, at an unnatural angle, advertising his fate.  
  
Without regard for her own safety, the last of the debris and dust falling to the ground, she did a wide loop to avoid the worst of the fallout, and raced to Logan's car.  
  
To her unimaginable relief, the car seemed to be intact, but the layer of dust on it was so thick she couldn't see in.  
  
"Logan!" she called to him, wiping at the driver's window with her hand. "Logan!"  
  
Still not quite able to see clearly inside, she could nonetheless make out his form in the car, and was contemplating ripping the door off when the driver's window opened.  
  
"You're okay?"  
  
Logan looked out at her, unharmed but a little dazed by the unexpectedness of the event.  
  
"What the hell's goin on here?"  
  
"I don't know, but I'm getting you outta here."  
  
Logan couldn't see through the front windshield, so he only assumed she had gone to get the gas for the car.  
  
In a minute she was back at his door. "Start the car," she said peremptorily.  
  
"There was a drunk ..." began Logan, turning the engine over, relieved to hear it catch the second time.  
  
"He's had his last drink," she answered bleakly, wiping at his front windshield, and removing some debris near his wipers. "There, you can go now."  
  
"Max, we gotta check in there. Maybe someone needs help."  
  
"I'll check; you drive," she answered implacably.  
  
"I'll wait," was Logan's set reply.  
  
Not wanting to waste time arguing with him, she turned and headed into the remains of the building. It had been an expert demolition job - the buildings either side were virtually untouched. The one that had collapsed appeared to have been a smallish two- storey warehouse. It had folded like a pack of cards.  
  
Max didn't expect to find survivors. It was an ugly sight that met her eyes. The charge must have been placed in the very midst of the slain men - well she assumed they'd been men.  
  
Going back to Logan she shook her head. "It's like they've been put through a blender."  
  
Logan looked slightly ill.  
  
"You've gotta get going, now!" Max admonished him again.  
  
Realizing there was nothing he could do there, he acquiesced. "I'll see you back at my place."   
  
************  
  
Matt Sung headed towards the area where there'd been reports of on explosion. With some surprise, he recognized Logan's car just turning out of Inverness Road.  
  
  
***************  
  
Max strolled into Logan's apartment, just as he finished telling Bling of the evening's events.  
  
"Well, that's one less dirt bag Eyes Only has to deal with," stated Max, coming in on their conversation.  
  
Logan looked up at her in surprise.  
  
"That's the building I did the recon on."  
  
"It is?" Logan was surprised.  
  
"You think it was some gang payback thing?"  
  
"So that was the Marconi gang headquarters?"  
  
Max nodded. "You bet yer linguine it is. What're you thinking?"  
  
"I don't know what to think," Logan replied. "Eyes Only did the broadcast on them last week."  
  
"On the bright side, less work for the courts."  
  
"It's not how I like to see things pan out," replied Logan shortly.  
  
"Whatever," replied Max, "but it seems to me if the scum are so set on blowin' each other up, who are we to say no?"  
  
Logan simply looked up at her, clearly unimpressed by her logic.  
  
Bling thought this would be a good time to take his leave. "Logan, don't forget you've got your follow up appointment with Sam in the afternoon. I'll be seein' ya."  
  
"Tomorrow? I can't," said Logan abruptly, the words out of his mouth before he'd had a chance to think about it. He could feel Max's eyes on him. "I got plans."  
  
"Change 'em," responded Bling, unmoved. "This is more important." And left before Logan had a chance to argue more.  
  
At Bling's words, Max saw that familiar closed look come over Logan's face - the one he used when he didn't want her to know he was struggling with something.  
  
Watching him closely she asked, "So, you wanna cook me dinner tomorrow night?"  
  
He didn't look up at her immediately, absently running his hand over the metal rim of his chair.  
  
Max waited for him.  
  
Eventually he looked up to see her eyes regarding him. "Sure, sounds good," he managed to get out. "I'll do a pasta."  
  
**************  
  
"This has been a Streaming Freedom video brought to you via the Eyes Only network. Peace."  
  
Feeling little of the satisfaction he usually felt after one of his broadcasts, Logan turned off the video equipment, and put the remote on the desk, having exposed the ugly dealings of one 'Antonio Rizzo' to the rest of Seattle.  
  
" Hey Logan, it's me. Just callin' to see what you're up to. I'll see ya for dinner."  
  
Max's voice rang through the apartment. Logan made no attempt to pick up the phone before she hung up, instead, with a slight look of irritation, he turned off the speaker, and left the messages to soundlessly record themselves.  
  
He spent the rest of the morning by the window, moodily regarding the Seattle skyline through the driving rain, remembering the conversation he'd had with Sam the last time he'd seen him. "I'm getting out of that chair, Sam."  
  
Well, he had, briefly, only Sam didn't know that, and now he had to face the humiliation of admitting to Sam that he'd been wrong.  
  
He'd so desperately wanted to be right.  
  
*******************  
  
  
  
It was quite late by the time Logan returned from his appointment with Sam.  
  
Max called to him from the kitchen. "Hey, Logan."  
  
He wheeled in to see what she was up to.  
  
"Well, you said we were having pasta, so I'm boiling the water." Logan thought he'd never seen anyone so intense about such a relatively simple commission.  
  
"You do that," he okayed, as he wheeled through to put his keys on the hall table, and then followed through to the window where he gazed out distractedly.  
  
Max, following, noted the small frown above his glasses.  
  
"So, how'd it go? You pass with flying colours?"  
  
"Something like that," he replied, not taking his eyes from the scene before him. The thought came to him that if he concentrated hard enough on the Seattle skyline, the other memories would be held at bay - the last time he'd seen Sam, full of hope, feeling the first awakenings of sensations in his legs which had been dead to him for 6 months. It hurt far too much to go back there. Easier if it had never happened than to have hope crushed so savagely.  
  
God, it hurt.  
  
Max watched him, his pain an ache in her as well, stirring within her feelings of guilt - it was her blood that had given him false hope. For those few days, "everything had seemed possible."  
  
"Can I cut up some vegetables for you?" Max asked him, hesitant about intruding on his pain, yet knowing for his sake, she couldn't let him brood. "I want to help," she added, her voice full of meaning.  
  
After a moments pause, he swung around to her and said, "Sure."  
  
She risked a small smile at him.  
  
Logan, feeling that he didn't think he could quite trust himself to look at her yet, said as he wheeled past her into the kitchen, "Maybe I can teach you a bit of kitchen savvy."  
  
"Sounds dangerous."  
  
He couldn't resist a small, smug smile. There was a certain amount of satisfaction in knowing there was one thing he could do better than her.  
  
The meal was delicious - as usual. Max helped Logan wash up and put the dishes away. His mood had not been as black as when he'd first come in, but she could see the mists had not totally disappeared. At various times she caught him with a faraway look, the small frown back.  
  
"You up for some chess?" she asked, half expecting him to say no.  
  
"Sure, sounds good."  
  
"Mind if I re-arrange your furniture a little?" He smiled a little at her words, remembering a previous conversation.  
  
Seeing as he didn't say 'no,' she moved the low table from its usual place in front of the couch, then picked up the chess set and table and set it within reach.  
  
"Let's sit here for a change." As she spoke, she sat down, patting the space beside her, but the other side of the chess set.  
  
He raised his eyebrows a minute then replied, "If you like."  
  
While he was transferring, Max went to the kitchen and retrieved the bottle of wine they'd been drinking at dinnertime, and two clean glasses.  
  
Her eyes lighted on his wheelchair, and on a sudden impulse said, "Out of sight, out of mind."  
  
As soon as the words had left her mouth she wanted them back. What are you thinking? she cringed inwardly?  
  
It surprised Logan to realize he'd been so transparent, or that Max could read him so well. He suddenly became aware of the weight that had been dragging him down ever since he'd returned from his appointment with Sam - well, to be truthful since Bling had reminded him of it the evening before. It irked him that he'd allowed himself to let it all in, yet again. It seemed like if you allowed one dark thought in, next minute you were drowning in a sea of them. Surprising even himself, he said, "Why not?"  
  
With an inward sigh of relief, Max wheeled it into his computer room, returning with a provocative smile, "Now, let's see what you're made of."  
  
Logan grinned, holding two chess pieces behind his back. "Your pick."  
  
Several games later, Logan looked at Max, "I think you need some more wine."  
  
Looking across she said, "The bottle's empty."  
  
"I think you definitely need more."  
  
"Why, you thinking if I'm tanked you've got more chance?"  
  
"Well, it's worth a try,' he admitted, a hint of treachery in his eyes.  
  
"Isn't that a little unscrupulous?" Max queried.  
  
"All's fair in love and war," he quipped, using his own dangerously sexy smile.  
  
Green eyes held hers - his words hanging tantalizingly in the air.  
  
"Am I interrupting something?" a voice asked from the doorway, with thinly veiled derision.  
  
Max looked up, startled. "Zack! What are you doing here?"  
  
"I came to see how you were doin', Max." His look and tone softened as his eyes rested on her face.  
  
"You normally only show up when someone's in trouble," Logan stated coldly - it was difficult to mask the resentment he felt towards the ex-Manticore soldier. He didn't try too hard.  
  
"I wanted to check she wasn't caught up in this latest Eyes Only debacle." His own tone was no warmer than Logan's had been.  
  
Logan searched his memory for a moment, but came up with nothing. "What're you talking about?"  
  
"I thought you had your finger on the pulse of Seattle 24/7."  
  
Logan felt a momentary stab of guilt at his words. He hadn't listened to any of his messages or checked any news on the net or TV the whole day, he'd been in such a funk about the appointment with Sam.  
  
"Obviously not," Logan replied shortly, "so why don't you fill us in."  
  
"Word is," and Zack looked directly at Logan as he spoke, "Eyes Only has become judge, jury and executioner, all rolled into one."  
  
TBC 


	3. Invitation

Thanks again for the feedback. I love getting your reviews. I'm pleased to hear you're enjoying this!  
  
My thanks again to the long-suffering Alaidh!!  
  
Chapter 3  
  
"Zack, what are you talking about?" glared Max.  
  
The blonde soldier shrugged. "Just turn on the news."  
  
Max swung round to look at Logan, who was still regarding Zack.  
  
"Okay," said Logan evenly, the words no sooner out of his mouth when he realized his situation.  
  
Colouring slightly, he said quietly to Max, "Can you get me my chair?"  
  
Max's eyes flew to his face, and then wordlessly she went to his study and wheeled it over to him.  
  
Studiously avoiding Zack's gaze, Logan transferred into it, then pushed himself into the study to turn the TV on.  
  
Looking up, Max caught the shocked look on Zack's face. Logan had been walking the last time Zack had seen him. At that moment, the TV came on, the noise covering their conversation.  
  
"Looks like you didn't get your miracle after all," Zack spoke softly to her.  
  
For a second Max saw herself running into Logan's apartment, frantically calling his name, the gun on his desk.  
  
Bringing her focus back to Zack she said, "Who says I didn't."  
  
Zack could sense there was more to what she was saying, but left it at that, following her to where Logan was steadily regarding the TV.  
  
".....were known for their heinous crimes against the community, and were only exposed on an Eyes Only broadcast last week. Our source claims Eyes Only was responsible for executing the leaders of the gang, who were to be apprehended by police in the next few days to face charges of murder, theft, and wrongful imprisonment."  
  
In disgust, Max reached forward and turned it off. "Who'd ever believe this crap?"  
  
Logan wheeled over to his computer and turned it on, two fingers pressed to his forehead as he waited, a myriad of emotions churning through his mind. First and foremost was the guilt that he'd ignored all the Eyes Only calls he'd had that day, because of his own stupid pride. Would he ever learn? Now all the time and effort that had gone into protecting the reputation of Eyes Only could well be undone in one day of foolish self-indulgence. Perhaps he could have done something if he'd discovered the facts earlier. Unconsciously, he shook his head, angry at his own incompetence.  
  
"Don't be so hard on yourself," said Max quickly, watching him carefully. With a slight edge to her voice, she added, "Some dirt bag was bound to try something like this, sooner or later."  
  
Contradicting her, Logan snapped, "I should've been ready for it."  
  
"What're you gonna do?"  
  
For once Logan felt like he didn't know what to do. He stared unseeingly at his computer, absently running his hand over his temple. He felt sick, his thinking process in chaos.  
  
"Logan?" asked Max again.  
  
"First, I'll have to run through my messages - see what I've missed. Hopefully someone'll know where this rumour has come from." To Max he sounded far from confident.  
  
"D'you think the same person's responsible for takin' out the Marconi gang and the Eyes Only dirt?"  
  
"That," stated Logan, "or someone taking advantage of the situation."  
  
For once Logan didn't know where to start.  
  
Pushing back decisively from his computer he said, "I'm gonna make a cup of coffee while I think this through."  
  
As Logan left the room, Max gave Zack a quick glance, and then walked to one of the large picture windows near the couch, tracing the progress of one of the raindrops with her finger.  
  
Zack followed her, standing just behind her. He spoke with intensity. "You can't afford to get involved in this, Max."  
  
Max turned on him angrily. "You were willing to use Eyes Only to contact the others after you were captured." Enunciating each word carefully she added, "He saved their lives."  
  
With her voice dangerously low she finished, "You think I'm gonna walk out on him when he needs me, then you're as whacked as whoever's makin' up this crap."  
  
A loud crash from the kitchen made her hurry in that direction.  
  
The floor was covered in coffee granules and broken glass, Logan regarding it with frustration.  
  
"I got it," said Max, ready to get the broom.  
  
"No!" The intensity of Logan's voice startled her. Seeming to get himself under control, he added with a little more restraint, "I can do it myself."  
  
"Fine. Have it your way."  
  
Logan watched her as she followed Zack back into the living area, then spun round to get the broom, wondering how it was that he was so distracted by Max being alone with Zack in the other room, when he should have been grappling with Zack's latest revelation.  
  
Zack, meanwhile, followed Max into the other room. "You want to help him?"  
  
Something in his tone of voice made her turn quickly towards him.  
  
"I got some info on my way down here. Might have something to do with whoever planted the bomb."  
  
"You have?" She was all ears now.  
  
"Everywhere I stopped they were talking about it. Some old guy in the mountains told me he'd worked as a cook for some kind of vigilante group that were camped out up there."  
  
"How do you know it's the people responsible for last night?"  
  
"I don't, but I think it's worth checking out." After a pause he said smoothly, "You wanna come with me, Maxie?"  
  
Max looked at him, her eyes large, looking fleetingly like a trapped animal. As always, Zack was captivated by her beauty.  
  
"You wanna help Logan don't you?"  
  
A torrent of thoughts was rushing through Max's head. She wanted to help Logan, but intuitively she knew that going alone with Zack into the mountains was the last thing he needed right now - not after all that had happened in the last few weeks.  
  
"How far is it?" she rapped out at him.  
  
Zack shrugged. "A three or four hour drive north-east. I was in a little town back up in the hills."  
  
Max thought long and hard for a moment. "I gotta talk to Logan."  
  
Walking back into the kitchen, she watched quietly while Logan emptied the last of the coffee into the trash.  
  
"Just as well I like tea," she smiled, a little unsure of her reception.  
  
Putting the broom and pan down, Logan turned to her with a strained smile on his face, "Perhaps you should make it then. My track record hasn't been good lately."  
  
Filling the kettle, Max said carefully, "Zack thinks he might have a lead on this vigilante group."  
  
"Good of him to tell us," muttered Logan, getting out some cups.  
  
"He met some guy, up in the mountains, three maybe four hours drive from Seattle."  
  
Logan frowned up at her. "He's serious?"  
  
"He seems to think it's a genuine lead. You know Zack - Mr Cautious when it comes to things like that."  
  
Logan merely nodded. He had an idea of what was coming.  
  
He felt a sinking feeling when Max said, "He wants me to go with him to check it out."  
  
"Uh huh," replied Logan unemotionally, wheeling to the refrigerator to get out some milk.  
  
Diving in, Max said quickly, "I think you should come too."  
  
Logan seemed to take a long time studying the contents of the refrigerator.  
  
"What do you think?" she prompted.  
  
It still seemed to take a long time to find the milk. The disaster of the Cape Haven trip was still fresh in his mind - he had no wish to be humiliated in front of Zack, it had been bad enough in front of Max.  
  
"You could bring your laptop," added Max, "stay in touch with what's happening here, and Bling could hold the fort for you in Seattle."  
  
Logan was torn, and he knew he couldn't keep his head in the fridge much longer. Of one thing he was sure, he hated the thought of Max being alone in the mountains with Zack. Zack - the perfect Manticore soldier.  
  
"You milkin the cow in there?"  
  
Grabbing the milk he closed the door. Making sure the lid was on, he put it on his lap and wheeled to the counter where the cups were.  
  
Almost in spite of himself, he heard his voice saying, "No. I gotta fix this up from here."  
  
"We could find somewhere to stay before we go. It'd be right up your alley - all work, no fun at all. I'll resist all temptation to enjoy myself; I won't even admire the scenery," looking directly at Logan as she said the last word, a slightly provocative smile on her lips.  
  
Feeling strongly tempted, Logan pushed through to his computer. "It won't work," he said flatly, "besides, I'll have to do some damage control here."  
  
Not willing to give up, Max suggested, "Why don't you work on this stuff tonight, then, if you don't have a better lead, you come with Zack and me in the morning."  
  
Logan made a vague gesture, agreeing half-heartedly to her idea, not really believing in his heart it would eventuate that way.  
  
Max smiled at him, and for a moment he thought it would be worth any indignities he might suffer on the trip just to see that look on her face.  
  
"I'll finish the tea, then I'll come and help you work through the backlog."  
  
Wondering at the back of his mind if she knew 'why' there was a backlog, he started the long task of playing through his messages.  
  
***********************************************   
  
It was distracting knowing Zack was in the other room, but mostly Max stayed at the computer with him, cross-checking any information that came in.  
  
Logan was beginning to feel very depressed about the whole situation. It would appear that no one on the informant net had caught hold of anything in the wind. Some called in merely to pledge their continued support, but others who seemed to think there was an inkling of truth to the rumour either called to hint at their disquiet, or to applaud the extermination of a pest.  
  
With a growing resentment for the ones responsible for both the bomb and the rumour, Logan stabbed viciously at his keyboard.  
  
Maybe we should take a break," suggested Max.  
  
"I haven't tried Matt yet. Maybe he can shed some light."  
  
"I'm gonna raid your cupboard," whispered Max, as she heard him greet the detective.  
  
Hearing Zack's footsteps, she sung over her shoulder, "You wanna a drink Zack?"  
  
"Thanks."  
  
Max thought he almost smiled for a moment. Must be getting soft, she mused.  
  
Poking her head in the pantry she came across two muffins Logan had bought at a bakery. Making a quick executive decision, she surmised that Logan probably wouldn't eat one anyway, so that left one each for her and Zack. Sitting at the kitchen counter, they both ate in some sort of companionable silence. Her brother wasn't really one for small talk, and Max was contemplating how to break it to him should some miracle happen and Logan should make the decision to come.  
  
Logan seemed to take a while to come through to the kitchen, so grabbing his tea, Max sailed through to him saying brightly, "I ate your last .".muffin, she was about to say, but seeing the expression on his face the word caught in her throat.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
Logan didn't answer immediately. His head slightly tilted, he preferred the safety of his computer screen to her expressive face.  
  
"Logan?"  
  
"That was Matt," he began, but didn't seem to know how to proceed.  
  
"Has something happened?" asked Max, beginning to feel concerned.  
  
She saw Logan squint slightly at the screen. "Seems Matt saw my car as I pulled out of Inverness Road last night."  
  
"So"  
  
"Add that to the comment I made the morning I got the latest file."  
  
"Which was?"  
  
Logan gave an annoyed sigh, "I made some off the cuff remark about scum and C4."  
  
"You did?" Max raised her eyebrows. It didn't sound all that unreasonable to her, but she didn't think that would be what Logan wanted to hear right now.  
  
"You've just been under a lot of pressure lately. That's not a crime."  
  
"I think it's what you call circumstantial evidence," was the cynical reply.  
  
"I can't believe Matt, of all people, would bail out so fast!"  
  
"He hasn't. I guess I'm just disappointed that he would even 'question.' I dunno, he's a policeman," Logan sighed again. "He's trained to suspect people."  
  
"Does he suspect you?"  
  
"I think I've convinced him that I'm not the spokesman for Eyes Only, just a disgruntled employee." he finished dryly. "Anyway, he's gonna look into some things for me. " Not looking at Max, he added, "I told him I'd be away for a few days, following a lead."  
  
He knew Matt probably didn't mean the way it had sounded, but even the hint of disbelief in his voice had hit Logan hard. If people like Matt had doubts - well! Impulsively, he'd changed his plans.  
  
"That's good," replied Max, trying to hide the smile from her face. "I could do with the personal input of Eyes Only on this case."  
  
Unlocking his brakes, Logan said, "Well, maybe a field trip will clear my mind."  
  
*******************************************   
  
"Just how do you think you're going to stay objective if Logan comes with you?" Zack was frankly incredulous.  
  
"I think he has the right to come along seeing as how it is 'his' name we're trying to clear," snapped Max.  
  
"You know how I feel about personal involvement!"  
  
"I think you've made that perfectly clear. You don't like the dealio - just give me the 411 and Logan and I will check it out ourselves!"  
  
Zack looked at her, wondering whose gene it was that had made her so stubborn.  
  
Her suggestion went against everything they'd been taught, but he had to admit to himself that the thought of her going alone with Logan was definitely an undesirable one.  
  
With his face emotionless he said, "I'll take you there."  
  
"Thank you," replied Max stiffly, bugged to find the same resentment towards Logan he always showed. "Logan's gonna arrange somewhere for us to stay. We'll leave in the morning after breakfast."  
  
"What's wrong with now?" Zack was ever one to strike while the iron was hot.  
  
"Because Logan's gonna drive, and he'll need to sleep," she replied shortly.  
  
Zack stifled a sigh - this was what you got when you dealt with non- Manticore people. "I hope you know what you're doing Max." he warned her.  
  
"You just show us where this old timer is so we can clear Eyes Only's name."  
  
TBC 


	4. Indecision

Thanks once more for all your wonderful reviews. I really appreciate them and I'm so glad you're all enjoying this!!  
  
To answer a question, this is set after Haven.  
  
Many thanks again to my beta, Alaidh!!  
  
Chapter 4  
  
Logan woke with a start the next morning, his first thought being there was something he had to do. Rubbing a hand over his eyes, his impetuous decision came back to him like a slap in the face.  
  
While he was comfortable with the idea of going with Max, Zack was another story entirely. Zack, who with his Manticore perfection, only seemed to highlight to Logan his own obvious lack of perfection.  
  
He thought long and hard about his decision while he had his shower and dressed, viewing the whole trip with trepidation. "I can't do this," he said to himself, "I'll just go out there and tell Max I've got way too much to do here." Wondering why this momentous decision made him feel no better, he wheeled down the hallway and entered the kitchen just in time to see Zack say, "Here," and wipe a piece of egg from the side of Max's mouth with a napkin. In that split second his resolve went out the window.  
  
"Well, you all set?" he asked brightly.  
  
Max turned to him, a little surprised to see him so cheerful. "Wow, someone got up on the right side this morning." She didn't appear unhappy about it.  
  
"Nothing like a drive in the country to sweep out the cobwebs," Logan grinned back at her.  
  
"Morning Zack," he added.  
  
"Yeah," Zack managed to grunt at him.  
  
"Logan, I'm gonna need a doctor's certificate to get outta work."  
  
"Can do," answered Logan, making himself some toast.  
  
Max gave him a bemused look. "I've already dropped back to my crib and picked up a few things." She motioned to a backpack by the front door. "And, I was able to get us another two cans of gas."  
  
Logan looked at her, impressed. "Great. I'll just clear up some things at this end. We should be ready to go by about ten."  
  
Still unclear as to why Logan was in such a good mood, she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.  
  
Zack, on the other hand, was positively morose.  
  
Once at his desk, Logan saw, with dismay, that there had been an avalanche of information sent during the night, but not one positive lead that they could go on. He was beginning to regret his impulsive words that morning, and gazed at the computer unseeingly, resting his chin on his hand as he often did when he was thinking hard about something.  
  
Max, returning after having delivered Normal her 'medical certificate' could see the signs.  
  
"So, what's up?" She knew Zack would be listening from the kitchen, where he sat desultorily drinking a cup of coffee.  
  
Startled, he looked up at her. He didn't immediately say anything, just raised both his hands in a gesture of helplessness. Looking down suddenly at his keyboard he said, "Maybe I should stay here."  
  
"And do what? Sit around here frustrated all day because no leads are comin' in and this whack-job's smearing crap all over Eyes Only?"  
  
"It's just possible that something 'might' come in, and I should be here for that," replied Logan, in barely disguised self-control.  
  
"What happened to the enlightened world of cell phones and laptops? Besides," she added, "we might need you up there."  
  
At that Logan merely looked at her. He hardly thought so with GI Joe accompanying her.  
  
Max played her last card. "I want you to come."  
  
He swung his gaze back to the screen. He couldn't remember when he'd been so double-minded about anything in a long time.  
  
He found it hard to resist that note in her voice.  
  
"Fine," he sighed. "I'll finish off here then go get packed."  
  
"Sector passes?" she asked suddenly.  
  
"Got that covered. Matt slipped me some this week in case something should come up."  
  
"You know, you'll feel better about all this when you're not sittin' here gazing at that screen, willing something to go down." There was a gentle note to her voice now.  
  
"Guess so." Logan didn't appear entirely sold on the theory.   
  
"I'll go pack us some food. Is that big cooler you've got in the pantry somewhere?"  
  
Logan made to unlock his brakes, but she stopped him with an outstretched hand. "I got it."  
  
She then added with a mischievous look, "I'll pack - if you cook."   
  
*************************************************  
  
It was slow going getting out of Seattle itself. The sector police were particularly difficult, and several times Logan had to dip into his wallet to get some 'problem' resolved. Forcing himself to keep smiling and stay cool, they finally made it out of the sprawling mess that was once called suburbs, and onto the main highway traveling north.  
  
The sun was even brave enough to show her face briefly, before having second thoughts and racing to the sanctuary of dark, forbidding clouds.  
  
Eventually Logan turned off the main highway, and onto a smaller one running east.  
  
There was little conversation in the car. In spite of herself, Max felt a certain amount of constraint with Zack's presence. It had been different when she'd traveled with Logan to Cape Haven.  
  
Logan - She stole a look at his profile. He still seemed a little tense. It all seemed so unfair that some low-life journalist on the scam for a sensational story could taint the reputation of Eyes Only so easily. Logan had told her if you throw enough mud, some of it would stick. Well, she was gonna make sure 'none' of it stuck.  
  
Suddenly, she sensed Logan's eyes on her. Perhaps aware of Zack too, he said nothing, just gave her a small smile.  
  
"We should think about stopping somewhere to have some lunch soon," she suggested.  
  
They'd started winding their way through a valley, surprisingly pretty and untouched by the events of the pulse. Here and there they'd passed disused cottages that had probably once been holiday shacks. Max thought it was sad to see them deserted. Following her gaze, Logan remarked, "This used to be a popular holiday spot. There's a beautiful river winding through this valley. We'll cross it in a few miles. I guess not many people can afford holidays any more."  
  
"Most folks are just working to survive," she said quietly.  
  
Unexpectedly, the river came into view at the next bend. It was wide and deep, flowing as it had for longer than she could tell, uninfluenced by wars, depression, or the pulse. "Logan, it's beautiful."  
  
"You wanna stop here? We'll make it our lunch stop."  
  
"We've still got quite a distance to travel," put in Zack. "I say we keep traveling."  
  
Logan raised his eyes heavenward.  
  
"This body's callin' out for fresh air, space and food," replied Max firmly. "Logan, anywhere along here'll do."  
  
Logan traveled on a little further, then swung the car into what had once been a busy parking lot and picnic spot for the hordes of visitors to the river, stopping next to the solitary table that had not been chopped for firewood when the pulse hit.  
  
"Nice," smiled Max, getting out and retrieving Logan's wheelchair from the back. "Zack, that cooler there has our food in it."  
  
Perhaps not happy with their decision, but trying to make the best of it, Zack grabbed the cooler and placed it on the table, helping Max unpack the things they'd need.  
  
Logan meanwhile had grabbed his laptop, and was intently checking through any new information that had turned up. Reading the slight look of disappointment on his face, Max said, "No news is good news, right?"  
  
He didn't bother to answer, just poured himself a cup of coffee from the Thermos.  
  
Max handed him a sandwich, and then one to Zack.  
  
"Logan, it's gonna take time to sort through this bitch."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"In the meantime, eat your sandwich," she smiled at him.  
  
Zack watched the exchange with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He knew Max would never leave Seattle - not while Logan was there.  
  
For a brief moment he asked himself what had induced him to come on this trip. He knew he had the answer in one short word.  
  
Max.   
  
*******************************************   
  
Once they'd eaten, Logan and Zack packed away the remains of their lunch, and stowed the cooler in the back, while Max went for a short walk along the bank. She was unable to persuade either Logan or Zack to accompany her: Logan because he doubted the suitability of the path covered as it was with boulders and roots for his chair, and Zack because he thought they'd dallied long enough, and should be moving on.  
  
"So where were you when you met this old man?" asked Logan, who hadn't really had a chance to talk to Zack about his lead. They didn't talk very much at the best of times.  
  
"I was in another town, not far from here, met him in a diner. Everyone was talking about the Eyes Only rumour." He flicked his eyes to Logan's for a moment. It seemed incongruous that all of Seattle was desperate to know his identity, and here he sat in a park in the country. Eyes Only - it was an apt name; even Zack had recognized that altruistic intensity that burned in his eyes when he was championing some cause.  
  
"And?" Logan prompted him.  
  
Recovering from his uncharacteristic lapse, Zack continued, "He said he'd just come from a vigilante camp in the mountains. He'd been their cook. According to him it was all strictly guarded and the whole thing was treated with the utmost secrecy."  
  
"Apparently they hadn't counted on a garrulous cook," commented Logan.  
  
"Anyway, he'd been given time off because they were all off on their first mission."  
  
"So how do we find him?" queried Logan, thinking it all sounded a bit vague, but he knew that Max trusted Zack's instincts, so he supposed in this case, he'd have to as well.  
  
"He actually lives in the town we're headed to."  
  
"Morristown."  
  
"So the way I figure it, we ask in the town, find out where he lives, and pay him a visit."  
  
Logan nodded. The X5 soldier made it all sound very cut and dried.  
  
Zack looked ostentatiously at his watch.  
  
Watching the motion, Logan smiled a little. "You know she'll take just as long as she means to, regardless of all else."  
  
"When we have a mission, our objective is our sole aim."  
  
A little nettled with his tone, Logan replied mildly, "You're not her C.O anymore, Zack."  
  
He could see a look of frustration and something else cross the other man's face. "If I was," and now Zack spoke with a look that burned and an intensity to his voice that almost produced ripples in the water, "I'd have her out of Seattle and clear of all this."  
  
Logan had the feeling that by 'all this' he actually meant Logan himself.  
  
Feeling his own anger flare, he was denied the satisfaction of a reply by Max's return.  
  
"You know, someday, Logan." began Max, only to stop as she looked from one to the other.  
  
"Good. It's time to go," spoke Zack, getting in the passenger door as he spoke.  
  
Wordlessly, Logan opened his own door and hoisted himself inside.  
  
Feeling like she'd just walked in on World War 3, she didn't bother to complete her sentence. Stowing the wheelchair in the back, she then took her place in the front seat, as Logan accelerated, with a slight spinning of his back tires out of the parking lot.  
  
The air in the car was decidedly chilly.  
  
"Is it cold in here, or is it just me? " she asked innocently. "Logan, can you put the heater on?" she asked with meaning.  
  
"I can't. It's broken."  
  
Max looked at him with surprise. She wasn't particularly happy with this news. It was going to be very cold up in the mountains, which was not a problem for her and Zack.  
  
"Why didn't you say something before we left. I probably could've fixed it."  
  
"Compared to every thing else that's gone down in the last few days, it didn't seem that important," retorted Logan, fully aware of where she was going with this.  
  
Not wanting to say anymore in front of Zack, she closed her mouth tightly, looking out her window as the car began it's long, slow winding way through the mountains.  
  
It would take more than a heater to warm this car, anyway, was her final cynical thought on the matter. TBC 


	5. Morristown

A/N: My apologies, I forgot to mention in the previous chapter that Morristown, mountains etc. are all fictitious.  
  
Once again, the reviews are fantastic – thanks so much. They make me feel very inspired!  
  
Thanks again to Alaidh – I'm slowly getting the hang of this beta thing!!  
  
Chapter 5  
  
Logan was surprised to find they'd made surprisingly good time in getting to Morristown. It would have been a breathtakingly beautiful town in its day, nestled against the mountain as it was, it's main street lined with picture postcard shops built in the 1800's.  
  
Before the pulse, the town had sold a variety of tourist items and beautifully crafted quilts, furniture, wood carved products and other handicrafts. The now barely readable signs told a story of a once thriving community. Sadly, most of the shops were boarded up; those not used as housing had become a home to the vermin of the area.  
  
They drove once down the main road to get their bearings.  
  
"My top pocket has the address of the agent we're renting the cabin from," said Logan to Max, motioning with his head.  
  
She leaned across and took it out. "87 Main St," she read out, "Morris Drug Store."  
  
"There it is," pointed Zack, as they drove past a building in slightly better repair than the others on the main street.  
  
Logan was glad they weren't here to sightsee. Dilapidated timber sidewalks ran either side of the street, which had a high and a low side. It was definitely not wheelchair friendly – some parts had ramps, some steps, and in some places you simply had to jump to get back to street level. Logan noted that Morris Drug Store was on the high side.  
  
Knowing what was running through his mind, Max said "I can get the key for you and pay - that is if you trust me with your wallet."  
  
I'd trust you with my life was his immediate thought.  
  
"Fine," he smiled.  
  
"I say we split up and ask around, without drawing attention to ourselves," said Zack, his eyes taking in every minute detail as they drove through. "We need to keep a low profile. It should be a reasonably straightforward task to find where Charlie lives - said he'd lived here all his life."  
  
Zack's mind was on the task at hand. He'd be glad to get out of the car. He'd found it surprisingly difficult being in such close proximity to Max – her total ease in Logan's company was an annoyance that was slowly eating away at him. He needed some action, he thought, stretching his muscles as he got out of the car.  
  
"Logan and I will take this side," said Max, indicating the lower side as she went round to the back to get Logan's wheelchair out.  
  
Zack followed her, his voice tight, "I said we should split up," he went to say to her, but one look at her face told him everything. "Have it your way," he snapped, walking off without another word.  
  
Looking after him, Max sighed. Why did there have to be so much antagonism between Zack and Logan. It seemed as though Zack had decided to dislike Logan from the first time they'd met. She thought back to Logan's words in the hospital – "He cares for you Max, and I don't mean like a brother." Closing the hatch with a bang, so too did she close her thoughts on the truths Logan's words implied. She wouldn't think about it.  
  
Once Logan was ready, Max said, as naturally as possible, "We should start with the bar."  
  
"Best place for gossip," agreed Logan easily.  
  
In both their minds was the memory of the incident with B.C. and the others in the bar at Cape Haven.  
  
I have no intention of repeating that incident, thought Logan.  
  
No way am I letting something like that go down again, thought Max.  
  
Entering the bar, they both stopped on the threshold and looked around in amazement.  
  
Logan suggested cautiously, "I think this is what you'd term eclectic."  
  
Max made a face. "Where do they sell the beer?"  
  
"I think that would be the er, ships hull."  
  
Max looked around her. As far as bars went it was truly unique. The building looked as though it had once been a barn, which probably made the stuffed horse in the corner feel right at home.  
  
Seeing her gaze, Logan murmured, "Barman by day, taxidermist by night".  
  
"Whatever, he sure had a lot of clients," grimaced Max, as she stared at the various squirrels, dogs, birds, even a kangaroo, and of course there was the ubiquitous moth-eaten deer and antler heads on the wall. Max noted the macabre way many of the animal faces were contorted, as if they were death masks taken from their final moments.  
  
"Kind of a fresh take on Madame Tussaud's," suggested Logan dryly.  
  
"Death masks of animals?" grimaced Max.  
  
"Ah yes, remember those last precious moments of your loved one."  
  
Max shook her head, trying not to smile. "I need a drink."  
  
"Well, it does have a certain charm."  
  
"For a junkyard," replied Max, careful not to knock down a suit of armour as she walked.  
  
"Now there's a find," said Logan with real interest.  
  
Looking around, Max saw him wheeling over to look at an old pinball machine.  
  
"Hey, Jurassic Park, no less," he smiled at her. "They had one of these in this little shop around the corner from where a friend of mine lived. We used to spend all our pocket money on it."  
  
"What, no Xbox, or Playstation for a rich kid?"  
  
"Oh yeah, I had those, but we just loved the feel of it, you know, pull the knob back, flip the flippers."  
  
"Waste your money," added Max dryly, amused nonetheless.  
  
"Well, not many eight year olds understand the value of money."  
  
"This must be part of their technological display," Max motioned, unimpressed, to the various old computers, bikes, and almost any defunct electrical item you could think of.  
  
Everything in the 'bar' was displayed in a haphazard fashion, on a shelf if there was room, or, more often than not, just lying on the floor. The owner was apparently allergic to cleanliness, thought Max, because it was obvious that it had been a long time since a duster had been used on the place – if ever.  
  
"You get us a table, I'll get the beers, and see what I can find out about Charlie."  
  
The 'table' Logan found turned out to be half a wooden door. Nobody had even bothered to remove the handle – a not unattractive brass piece. Waste not, want not he thought. Snapping on his brakes, he watched as Max made her way to the counter.  
  
"Ahoy there," she called to a man behind the counter, who was engrossed in watching a TV screen mounted on the wall above the bar.  
  
The bar was virtually deserted; the only other occupants were two middle- aged men who appeared to be engrossed in their own conversation, and after a quick glance when Max and Logan first came in, they now virtually ignored the newcomers.  
  
The barman turned to face her, and it was clear by his attitude that the art of hospitality was not one of his fine points. He looked to be about sixty, his hair grey, face lined, but Max had the feeling his age would have been closer to fifty. She could imagine that working in a place like this would age you.  
  
"Two beers please," said Max.  
  
While he pulled the beer, she asked casually, "I wonder if you know an old guy called Charlie? I'm tryin' to find him."  
  
"Yeah?" He sounded completely disinterested.  
  
"I think he may be a relation of mine - heard he was in these parts, thought I'd look him up," Max elaborated with ease.  
  
Just then, a group of men came in, obviously all from the same work place, as they were similarly dressed for the outdoors in heavy jackets and boots. Perhaps they worked for a timber mill, thought Max, looking at them. There were about ten of them, and they split up when they came in, some heading for the bar, others for tables while their friends got the beers.  
  
Two or three nodded in a friendly fashion to Logan as they came in.  
  
"Hey Brandon," called the bartender suddenly to a man, who looked to be about thirty, as he came in the door. "This here girlie's lookin' for old Charlie."  
  
Max saw the man called Brandon look at her, a reasonably good-looking man in an outdoors sort of way. He seemed to be with two other men of about the same age.  
  
As he came closer, Max said to him, "So you know Charlie?"  
  
"Maybe," he answered. Max sighed - she knew the signs. What was it about these hick towns anyway? She decided not to look in Logan's direction.  
  
Logan felt himself tensing, but he had no intention of interfering.  
  
Brandon came up to stand close to Max. "I know Charlie reeeel well," he drawled. "Wouldn't mind knowing you reeel well either," he added.  
  
"Yeah?" purred Max back at him. "So where does Charlie live?"  
  
"What do I get if I tell you?" Sure of himself, he put a hand to her hair, considering her beauty.  
  
Max resisted the urge to snap his arm, her own smile barely slipping from her face, mindful of Zack's words to not draw too much attention to themselves.  
  
"You'll just have to see," she murmured suggestively, hoping that Logan wasn't watching too closely.  
  
Brandon couldn't tell her fast enough. "To get to Charlie's, you head up the old mine road, about five miles north of town. It runs off the main road."  
  
"Gee thanks." Max flashed him one of her brilliant smiles. "Have a coupla beers on me." And she passed on the two fresh beers in front of her.  
  
It slowly dawned on the lumberjack that 'beer' was all he was gonna get. His two friends began to snigger.  
  
"Whaddya find so funny?" he snarled at them.  
  
Max turned to walk away from the bar, when Brandon grabbed at her arm. "I think you owe me a little more than that." He was a large man, tall and broad. Obviously he thought it would be easy to grab a kiss from the dark haired beauty before him.  
  
Seeing his intention, Max hesitated for a moment. Keeping a low profile did not include starting a bar room brawl in a small town where you were the only strangers.  
  
Making up her mind, she quickly wrapped one slim leg around the leg of the lumberjack, at the same time releasing his hold of her arm with a quick twisting movement. Before Brandon knew it, he was flying backwards and onto the floor. It was all done so quickly that anyone watching would have thought he'd simply lost his footing.  
  
Wasting no time, Max turned, indicating to Logan with her eyes to head for the door –mission accomplished.  
  
Most of the other men hardly bothered to look up. It appeared this was a town where you minded your own business.  
  
Brandon jumped to his feet with surprising speed for such a big man.  
  
Max had had to slow down while Logan maneuvered his way out of the bar. She could sense the large man coming up behind her, and tensed herself accordingly, but this time the man made no attempt to grab at her. With an ugly sneer on his face he ground out, "You little smart-ass bitch."  
  
Ignoring him, Max followed Logan through the door, relieved to find they weren't being followed.  
  
Wordlessly Logan pushed himself along the sidewalk.  
  
"Well, we got what we wanted," Max said to him, casting a quick look at his profile.  
  
"Yep," replied Logan, looking with interest down the road.  
  
"You want me to get the key to the cabin?"  
  
"Sure," he replied.  
  
Giving her the money she would need, and their sector passes in case they were required as well, he said, "I'll wait here," and then seeing Zack approach from the opposite end of town to where the drugstore was, he added, "for ...Zack."  
  
Biting his lip, he watched thoughtfully as Zack approached, his blonde hair standing out against the dark of the sky.  
  
Max, busy putting the money in her jacket pocket, didn't notice anything unusual in his tone, or she may have had second thoughts on splitting up. She was just glad he'd taken the episode in the bar so well – reasonably well, she amended to herself. Sometimes, even now, she wasn't always sure of what Logan was thinking.  
  
Logan watched her walk off, then turned to see Zack approaching.  
  
For once he was pleased to see Zack's soldierly bearing, his own green eyes narrowing for a moment with purposeful intent as he watched the approach of the X5.  
  
Logan was neither a vindictive nor violent man by nature, however it would appear to be a facet of human nature that once you're 'un'able to do something, you only desire to do it all the more.  
  
He'd wheeled out of the bar knowing that Max wouldn't even give someone like Brandon a moment's thought, but in Logan's world, men didn't talk that way to women, and somewhere along the way, he still held to those ideals.  
  
Then he'd seen Zack, and the seed of an idea had begun to grow.  
  
"Max has gone to get the key," Logan said to Zack, wheeling back a little to let a few men from the bar pass by.  
  
"What did you find out?" asked Zack directly.  
  
"Max was able to get Charlie's whereabouts from a guy inside."  
  
Zack showed no inclination to ask more, so Logan suggested, "You wanna beer while we wait?"  
  
Zack thought for a moment, and then, deciding the idea had merit, he nodded slightly and went inside.  
  
Logan watched him as he paused in the doorway, as he and Max had done. He saw the blue eyes sweep the room, but disappointingly his expression didn't change.  
  
Remind me not to play poker with him, thought Logan.  
  
They both headed towards the bar itself. Logan was pleased to see that Brandon and his two friends were still there, now seated at one of the tables.  
  
Logan was about to order when Zack said, "I'll buy," and reached into his pocket for some money.  
  
Not really surprised by Zack's words - he had a fair idea the blonde young man would prefer to be obligated to Logan as little as possible - he headed over to the same table he had been at before, leaving Zack to follow with the beers.  
  
Waiting for the beers, Zack looked around with distaste. He had been taught to admire order and cleanliness – this jumbled mess had no attraction for him whatsoever.  
  
Turning the brass doorknob idly, Logan wasn't quite sure how to play out his scheme. He was even beginning to think better of his idea, and wondered if he should just forget about the whole thing, when fate played beautifully into his hands.  
  
Brandon and his friends were sitting immediately on Logan's right, the large man already regarding Logan with disfavour. He looked to be spoiling for a fight. Logan smiled inwardly.  
  
It was at this point that a golden opportunity presented itself, and even Logan was surprised by the suddenness of it all.  
  
Coming towards him, Zack said to Logan, "I don't think much of this place."  
  
There was the sudden loud noise of another half dozen lumberjacks coming into the bar, calling loudly to their friends  
  
At that, Brandon grabbed Logan roughly by the shoulder and said menacingly, "What did your friend say?"  
  
Before Logan knew what had come over him, he heard himself saying, his head turned away from Zack, "He said he doesn't think much of your face."  
  
For a moment, Logan thought the big man was going to let fly at him, but suddenly he turned towards Zack with a look of sheer pleasure on his face - these two men knew that girl, and now he was going to have some fun with them.  
  
"Oh you don't, huh?" he snarled at Zack.  
  
Zack had no idea what the man was talking about, Logan's words having been well and truly drowned out by the tramping of boots and loud voices of the lumberjacks, but he perfectly understood the man's intent. Fight.  
  
Quickly putting the two beers down on the table, he looked up to see the large man attempt to throw a right hook to his jaw.  
  
Zack's blue eyes glowed. This was exactly what he needed after a day in the car with Max and Logan  
  
He avoided the blow with ridiculous ease, his own right hand glancing the other man's jaw. Well, he didn't want it to end too quickly.  
  
At that point the other two men decided that they should join in as well. No one else in the bar showed any inclination to get involved, but watched with an almost polite interest.  
  
One of the two tried to grab Zack from behind, but the Manticore soldier simply reached up and behind, grabbing the other worker under his arms and somehow managing to flip him over and send him sprawling to the floor.  
  
Brandon meanwhile, had recovered from the light blow he'd received and was coming at Zack again, determined to take him down. Logan could see he was an experienced fighter, but he was no match for Zack. The man's left hook was intercepted once more, and this time Zack hit him with a little more force to the stomach. With a look of pain on his face, the man doubled over, even though Logan could tell that Zack had himself well in hand and was only toying with the man.  
  
At this point, the third man decided to join the fray.  
  
Brandon struggled to his feet once more and charged at Zack, all thought of finesse long gone, as did the man Zack threw over his shoulder.  
  
Logan thought it was time he lent a hand. As the third man came past him, eyes intent on Zack, Logan spun his chair around so that the man ran full force into Logan, his shins catching on the footrest of Logan's chair and sending him crashing to the ground. Pleased with the result, Logan looked around to see Zack deliver the final blows and Brandon and pals sank to the floor, either stunned or deciding that 'down' was the safest place to stay.  
  
Barely out of breath, Zack turned to Logan. "Nice move," he stated, downing his beer with satisfaction.  
  
Yessir, he thought nothing like a fight to loosen the muscles  
  
Logan drank some of his own beer, and then said with meaning to Zack, "I think Max should be back soon."  
  
Zack held the door for Logan as he wheeled through, commenting, "I wonder what that was all about?"  
  
"He just probably had a bad day or something, you know,' replied Logan airily. It was unlikely Max would have been so easily deceived.  
  
The blonde man nodded, and together they went outside just as Max reached the door.  
  
"That's all ..." 'set', she went to say, but stopped to look from Zack to Logan.  
  
She thought they both looked suspiciously pleased with themselves.  
  
"You didn't have any trouble, did you?" she asked.  
  
Zack looked to Logan to see how he would play it.  
  
Logan put in, "We just had a beer. Kept a low profile."  
  
Max looked at him for a minute, but before she had a chance to say more, Zack said decisively, "We should get goin' and check Charlie's place before it gets dark."  
  
Logan nodded and started heading in the direction of the car. He was keen to put as much space between Max, and the bar, as possible.  
  
TBC 


	6. Charlie

Glad to hear you're all enjoying this and having a good laugh! All my thanks again for the wonderful reviews.  
  
Special thanks to my beta, Alaidh, for all her work!!!  
  
Chapter 6  
  
Max was surprised to find the atmosphere in the car was slightly warmer, but the same couldn't be said for the air outside. Even Max, genetically engineered as she was to resist the cold, was aware of the chill in the air.  
  
Banks of thick, black clouds hovered aggressively over the mountains, intimidating even the bravest of bird life, which appeared to have wisely taken refuge from the approaching storm that was already heralded by the increasingly vicious gusts of wind.  
  
"Which direction?" asked Logan, turning the key in the ignition as he spoke.  
  
"Five miles north of town. We're looking for Mine Road. Charlie's place is at the end of it."  
  
"Where's the cabin?"  
  
Max took the leaflet she'd been given out of her pocket and studied it. "North of town as well, but you wind around a few other roads to get to it. Hey, looks nice," she mentioned, looking at the grainy photo. She held it up for Logan to look at briefly as he drove. "Looks like we're on a lake. Not," she quickly amended, "that we'll have any time to enjoy ourselves."  
  
Logan shot her a look.  
  
"What?" she asked innocently.  
  
"This is it," put in Zack at that moment, indicating a faded road sign to their left.  
  
Logan turned the Aztek onto a dirt road that seemed to be facing a losing battle resisting the encroachment of the forest on either side.  
  
"Glad I didn't bring the Ferrari," he murmured, as numerous branches could be heard scraping the sides of the car. Surprisingly, the road improved a little further on, probably because of the presence of logging trucks. There was evidence of newly felled trees.  
  
Eventually the road opened up to reveal a huddle of ramshackle buildings. None of them looked habitable.  
  
"Home, sweet home," said Max, preparing to get out as Logan parked as close as possible to a rickety fence that looked like it would collapse if you leant on it.  
  
"Did you say he was a cook?" she asked Zack, who was standing next to the car as she went round to the back. At Zack's nod, she added, "Hope he was a better cook than he was a handyman."  
  
Watching her getting out the wheelchair, he said quietly, "We should do this first."  
  
She looked at him for a moment, and then went round to Logan's open door. "You wanna wait here a minute while we check it out?"  
  
"Oh yeah, you can set off all the booby traps first," said Logan, sounding relieved.  
  
"I'll try and save a few for you," she promised over the roar of a sudden gust of wind.  
  
Logan watched as the two of them made their way along some sort of a path that led down to what appeared to be the main building, presumably where Charlie lived.  
  
Charlie must have been a good friend with the owner of the bar - there was junk everywhere.  
  
Logan watched as four chickens pedantically picked their way through the mess. It reminded him of the time Bennett and he had been staying on a farm and they'd both hidden in the shed to watch the farmer slaughter the birds. There had been much speculation between the two of them, on how long it would take for the headless chickens to keep running, once their heads were removed. He frowned slightly, trying to remember.  
  
The wind was freezing as it blew in the car. Max had left the door open with Logan's wheelchair next to it ready for him to use. Damn it was cold, he thought, rubbing his hands together to try and warm them up.  
  
He was contemplating whether he'd have time to boot up his laptop when a large black dog bounded up to his door, barking frantically.  
  
He viewed it with a certain amount of suspicion.  
  
After barking furiously at him, it turned around and bounded towards what looked to be some sort of a shed, and began pawing and scraping at the door.  
  
The dog's actions gave him a sudden hollow feeling in his stomach.  
  
Logan looked towards the house to see if there was any sign of Max and Zack.  
  
Making up his mind, he transferred to his wheelchair, and had only gone a few feet before the heavens opened with a vengeance.  
  
"Great sense of timing," he muttered, soaked to the skin in minutes, hair flattened, and glasses almost useless.  
  
He looked back at the car, but decided he was already wet through, so he pushed on. At least the rain is at my back, he thought, as he headed towards the shed where the dog still pawed, regardless of its own wet fur.  
  
Thankfully the dog seemed to view Logan as a friend, which was just as well, thought Logan, because from his vantage point in the chair, its strong teeth were uncomfortably close to his face as it greeted him like a long lost friend. Logan tried to open the door, but quickly saw an old padlock was keeping it shut. Looking around for something to hit it with, he saw an old piece of timber, about a foot in length, lying nearby, and picked it up.  
  
It only took three blows for the padlock to pull away from the rotten timber of the door. Laying the wood across his knees, with a slight sense of trepidation, he opened the door inwards. At the first opening, the dog pushed forward, forcing its way through the door.  
  
Its barking stopped abruptly.  
  
Waiting a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness in the shed, Logan heard the dog begin to whimper.  
  
As his eyes focused, Logan could see the dog poised over the figure of a man.  
  
"Oh no," he muttered, as he reached down to check for a pulse. He didn't need to - one touch was enough to ascertain that the man was already cold and stiff. The reason for his death was not obvious until Logan managed to half turn the body, and found an ugly wound at the back of his head. The man had been hit there more than once.  
  
Logan turned his head suddenly.  
  
The doorway was empty. The rain hadn't let up and the sound of it on the tin roof was deafening. "Don't go gettin' jumpy," he said to himself.  
  
"Logan!"  
  
He could just make out Max's voice above the storm.  
  
"Max," he called back in reply, making the dog jump skittishly at the unexpected noise, only to go back to its place of mourning next to the body.  
  
He headed back to the doorway, pausing under a small awning that offered some protection from the rain, and called to her again, his voice barely carrying against the wind.  
  
Logan could see her standing at the Aztek, one hand shielding her eyes from the rain as she looked for him. Logan was about to call again when a movement to his left made him jump, and look up startled.  
  
It was Zack.  
  
"Max is looking for you," he stated, as if Logan had done something wrong.  
  
Annoyed already that he'd jumped at Zack's approach, Logan snapped, motioning with his head, "If that's Charlie in there, he's cooked his last meal."  
  
Zack called firstly to Max, making Logan roll his eyes - his voice was so loud he could have woken Charlie - and signalled with his arms to attract her attention. He would have felt better if he'd been close enough to see the look of relief cross Max's face when she saw Logan next to Zack  
  
Leaning back in his chair, he waited while Max came towards him. The driving rain didn't seem to bother her at all, although he knew it wasn't her favourite weather to be out in.  
  
Coming out of the shed as Max reached Logan, Zack said in his serious way, "Logan found Charlie."  
  
Max looked at Logan for a moment, and then followed Zack back inside the woodshed.  
  
"I knew you'd come in handy," said Max to Logan as they came out. "Pity he's dead."  
  
"Well I'm sure Charlie's not so thrilled about it either," replied Logan, dryly. This was not what he'd been hoping for. "Did you take a good look at the body?"  
  
"Looks like he's been dead since morning. A bit hard to tell 'cause it's so cold up here."  
  
"Hit with a blunt instrument," added Zack, in his clinical manner. His eyes fell on the piece of wood still on Logan's knees. "Where'd you get this from?" he asked, picking it up and turning it over in his hands.  
  
"It was just outside, by the door. Why?"  
  
Zack showed it to Max, then said, "I'd say you've found the murder weapon." He held it out for Logan to see. Looking closely, Logan could see the blood and hair stuck to one end.  
  
Logan wasn't keen on the idea that he'd been carrying around a piece of wood used to bash someone's brains in.  
  
"We'd better go and check the house," said Max, "We might find some leads there."  
  
"We'll have to think about what to do with Charlie's body," said Logan. "Either of you notice any local law enforcement?"  
  
Zack sniggered. "We're strangers in town, we tell the town we're looking for Charlie, then he turns up dead with your prints all over the murder weapon ..?"  
  
Max wrinkled her nose. "He has a point, Logan."  
  
"Well, we can do something about the prints."  
  
Seeing his meaning, Zack, with his gloved hands, took the timber and wiped it thoroughly on his shirt, which was still reasonably dry under his leather jacket.  
  
"Have you seen anyone else around?" asked Logan, not relishing the prospect of another trip in the rain.  
  
"He told me he lived alone," said Zack, stepping back out into the rain. They all had to raise their voices to be heard above the storm. "You comin'?" he asked Max.  
  
"We're both comin'," she amended.  
  
Zack turned and walked briskly towards the house, while Max walked beside Logan.  
  
"You sure you wanna do this tonight?" she yelled at him doubtfully, trying to make her voice heard above the wind and rain. "A roaring fire sounds real good to me at the moment."  
  
Keeping his head down against the rain, Logan didn't reply.  
  
Once under cover, he reminded her accusingly, "You promised me you wouldn't enjoy yourself this trip."  
  
"You think this qualifies?" she asked, standing in the rain. "Besides, who said anything about 'enjoying' the fire."  
  
There was little daylight left now, and Zack had already found a lamp and lit it. There was no electricity connected to the house.  
  
Logan took his glasses off and wiped them on the inside of his jacket as Zack lit another lamp, passing it to Max. It was really quite dark inside now. Max stayed next to Logan holding the lamp for his benefit. Her own eyesight was exceptional in the dark.  
  
Looking around, Logan shook his head. Charlie had been a hoarder, and there were piles of stuff everywhere.  
  
"You always liked a challenge, right?" Max reminded him.  
  
"What happened to the 'go into town, find where he lives, and talk to him' part?" Logan asked her, brushing his hand through his hair to try and stop the water dripping into his eyes.  
  
"With any plan you have to be prepared for every contingency," put in Zack, sounding slightly annoyed.  
  
"Yeah, well I think the first plan was more to my liking," replied Logan, attacking a pile of papers that looked to be reasonably recent.  
  
"It's not something you get to choose." Zack was beginning to sound more than annoyed.  
  
"What, the plan, or the contingency?" asked Logan, enjoying himself.  
  
"Zack, why don't you check one of the other rooms?" suggested Max, throwing Logan a warning look. "He is here to help," she reminded Logan, under her breath, as Zack left the room  
  
"Yeah? Well I don't see why he has to be such a pain in the ass about everything," retorted Logan, flipping through the pile of papers in front of him.  
  
"And you weren't?" she flung back.  
  
"No," he replied coolly. "The difference is that I was 'trying' to be."  
  
"Well maybe you don't have to try as hard as you think you do," she snapped back.  
  
Putting the lamp down with a thump on the table in front of him, she walked out saying,  
  
"I'll be in the other room if you need me."  
  
Logan frowned at the paper in his hand. He hadn't wanted to argue with her. On the other hand, they'd gone nearly a whole day without biting each other's heads off. "Must be some sort of a record," he muttered to himself.  
  
Blowing on his hands to try and get them warm, Logan worked steadily on the various piles of papers and magazines that Charlie had hoarded indiscriminately. The old gas lamp flickered incessantly, and after an hour or more of sifting through the piles, all he had to show for it was a stiff neck and blurred eyes. Add that to the fact that he felt like he'd never be warm again, and now Max wasn't speaking to him, and he was in a fair way to being completely miserable.  
  
Zack had been pleasantly surprised to have Max's company, his dark mood lifting quickly. He entertained her by telling her some of his adventures over the years and the various jobs he'd had, as they worked side by side, systematically working through any papers and paraphernalia Charlie had collected. Max couldn't remember seeing him so relaxed. It reminded her of the evening they'd spent together at Uncle Jonas's cabin. Her own mood had been too black to appreciate his company that night.  
  
With a sigh, she realized they'd worked their way through the room and had found nothing that would indicate who Charlie had worked for or where he had been.  
  
"I'll go check how Logan's goin'," she said to Zack, as he packed away the last box they'd gone through.  
  
Going back to the other room she stood at the doorway for a moment, waiting for Logan to notice her. He sat with his arms folded, only unfolding them to turn the page in front of him. After a few moments he still hadn't noticed her, so she said, "Find anything?"  
  
He gave her one quick glance, then turned back to the page in his hand, saying "Nope," with a hint of attitude.  
  
She was about to offer her help when she thought she saw him shiver slightly. "Are you cold?"  
  
"I'm fine," he replied shortly, still not looking up.  
  
Considering him for a minute, she said, "Zack and I have finished in there. I think we should go and finish this tomorrow."  
  
Zack came in just in time to hear her words. "We came here to do a job. I don't see anything to say we're finished. What about the body?"  
  
"We can finish it in the morning. It's not as if Charlie's goin' anywhere."  
  
Looking at her closely, Zack said, "We might be walking away from the information we need. I thought that was important to you."  
  
Throwing daggers at him with her eyes, she said curtly, "It can wait. You ready to go?" she turned to Logan.  
  
Casting a quick glance in her direction, he slowly wheeled himself to the door. Max followed, holding the lamp up to illuminate the rocky pathway, purposefully not looking back to see if Zack was following.  
  
At least the rain had stopped, but the wind still menaced them.  
  
Logan was glad to see the car.  
  
Grunting with the effort, he got in his seat, only to curse abruptly when the keys dropped from his hand just as Max got in herself. Logan was already feeling for them when Max saw them by his feet. "There they are," she said quickly, leaning forward herself to pick them up, her hand brushing his as she gave Logan the keys.  
  
"No wonder you dropped them - your hands are freezing."  
  
"I forgot my gloves," Logan explained quickly.  
  
"You want me to drive?" Max suggested.  
  
"No, but I could sure do with those eyes of yours to navigate."  
  
Max gave him a small smile. "Sure."  
  
Just as Logan was about to start down the road, Max grabbed his arm and said, "I forgot something." She opened the car door even as he slowed down, and raced towards the house where she was soon swallowed up in darkness.  
  
Logan closed his eyes while he waited, wondering what she was up to, resisting the urge to shiver. Stretching his neck and shoulder muscles he forced himself to relax.  
  
Hearing Max open the hatch, he turned around to see what she was up to. His glance fell on Zack, who sat looking out into the darkness, apparently not the least moved by the cold or the rain. I could do with a bit of this genetic engineering myself, thought Logan darkly, turning back around to stare out the front window.  
  
Max got back into the car, taking out the directions to the cabin they were to stay in, as Logan proceeded back down Mine Road.  
  
At the back of his mind, he wondered what Max had been up to, but he couldn't be bothered to ask. He assumed she'd tell him at some stage.  
  
"We turn right at the main road," Max advised him, "then make a left at the next road."  
  
Logan nodded, frowning slightly, while he concentrated on the road ahead.  
  
At the main road, Logan looked left before coming out, but even as he did so he was aware of a pair of headlights coming at them.  
  
Another car was turning into Mine Road, and obviously not expecting a car to be coming out of it, they were now turning directly in front of the Aztek.  
  
Cursing the numbness in his hands, Logan pulled the wheel to the right, at the same time accelerating hard to avoid the now oncoming car.  
  
Fortunately the driver of the other car had probably realized his mistake a few seconds before Logan had seen him and had been already braking and flinging his own car to the right.  
  
Miraculously neither car skidded on the wet road, and they both missed each other by perhaps only an inch- it had been so close. Any further down Mine Road, without the room to manoeuvre, they would have hit head on.  
  
Without stopping to acknowledge their stupidity, the other car sped off down Mine Road.  
  
Letting out the breath he'd unconsciously held in, Logan stole a quick look at Max.  
  
"Nice moves," she admired.  
  
"At that point in the road, there was room for the two cars. It was simply a matter of avoiding each other." Zack clinically assessed the situation.  
  
Logan half turned his head and let his eyes flicker in Zack's direction. With considerable restraint, he said nothing.  
  
"Here's our turn," put in Max quickly, glad to give Logan something to focus on.  
  
"I wonder why anyone was turning down that road," mused Logan.  
  
"It was a forestry truck," replied Max, "I saw some sort of logo on the side."  
  
Consulting the small map on the pamphlet she'd been given, Max said, "Somewhere along here there should be another road on the left."  
  
It was a little more open this side of the main road, the forest less dense.  
  
"Here it is," she pointed, indicating the road. "Logan," she said again, when he failed to react to her words.  
  
"I'm on it," he replied tersely.  
  
They only had to drive another three hundred yards or so, when Max's keen eyes picked out the driveway to the cabin they were to stay in.  
  
Logan drove up the circular driveway, parking immediately in front of the house.  
  
Turning to Zack, she gave him the key, "See if you can get some light out here. It looks nice," she mentioned to Logan, before getting out.  
  
"I'll have to take your word for it." On such a dark night, all he could make out was an outline, and even that seemed a little blurred.  
  
As Max came round to Logan with his chair, an outside light came on, illuminating the area about them, and then several others in the house came on as well. Everything appeared far more welcoming.  
  
Zack came back out to collect some bags, and then they all made their way inside.  
  
The cabin was of the rustic variety, which meant while in need of repair, it was liveable. Everything was 'rustic' nowadays, thought Logan dryly.  
  
Everything was on one level, three bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, kitchen and living room. Although there was the slight musty smell of a house that had been closed up, it was particularly clean, and generally quite homely, if unfortunately, rather cold.  
  
The only form of heating was the open fire in the living room.  
  
Max walked through and checked out the bedrooms. The third bedroom was quite small, but the other two were larger, with en suites. Following her, Zack immediately insisted on taking the smaller one.  
  
"You don't wanna flip for it?" asked Max.  
  
Zack smiled at her. "Uh uh."  
  
Max came out to find Logan checking out the kitchen facilities. Everything seemed reasonably accessible.  
  
She took one look at him, and then walked over to where his bag was. "You gotta get changed," she said, throwing the bag to him.  
  
Not waiting for his reply, she called to Zack. "I gotta do somethin'," she said to him as he came up to her, "we need a fire," her glance flickered to Logan as she spoke.  
  
Zack went to say 'yes', but seeing the way her thoughts were turning, he felt the same feeling of annoyance that had bothered him the whole day. "In a minute," he replied instead, no sign of his previous charm.  
  
"Thanks," she answered, ignoring his obvious resentment, and going out to the car.  
  
***************************  
  
Sometime later, Max entered by the kitchen door, hoping to hide her surprise. She was looking forward to kickin' back in front of the fire for the evening. Considering the matter, she thought Logan's apartment would have been perfect if it just had an open fire as well.  
  
Going through to the living room, she felt a growing sense of trepidation - of Logan there was no sign, Zack sat reading in one of the armchairs, and the fireplace was patently bare.  
  
"What happened to the fire?" her words shot out accusingly.  
  
Zack bridled at her tone, but before he could answer she fired out, "Where's Logan?"  
  
TBC 


	7. Fireside

Chapter 7  
  
Logan wheeled through to the bedroom, thinking wearily about the day's events. They had accomplished very little. "Once I've changed I'll contact Bling and boot up the laptop", he thought. Was it only lunchtime since he'd been in touch with Seattle? It seemed like days ago.  
  
Stripping off his wet clothes with difficulty, he looked at his legs grimacing. They were mottled with the cold. Somewhere at the back of his mind, Bling's warnings came back to him. He shrugged fatalistically - he was too tired to be worried about it now. It was enough of an effort to pull on a pair of thick, warm track pants and sweat shirt.  
  
Putting on dry shoes and socks, his eyes fell on the blanket folded at the end of the bed, but he gave it a dark look and wheeled through to the living room to get his laptop.  
  
Logan was surprised to find the fire still unlit. He looked around to see where the wood and shavings were kept, but they didn't appear to be inside. The prospect of navigating an unknown yard in the dark, not to mention the rain, held no appeal for him at all.  
  
"Do you want me to light the fire?" he asked Zack. It seemed a polite way to give a hint.  
  
"I got it covered," glared Zack back at him.  
  
"Okay," answered Logan, in a pacifying tone, which didn't seem to go down well either with Max's brother. Clearing his throat a little he said, "I think I'll just grab my laptop."  
  
Zack didn't look up again, so Logan shrugged and went back to the bedroom.  
  
*******************************  
  
Max knocked at the bedroom door calling, "Logan?" Then, when he didn't answer, she called his name with more urgency.  
  
"Logan! You comin' out?"  
  
"I'm working,"  
  
Opening the door, she was relieved to see him sitting in his wheelchair, staring intently at his laptop, which rested on his knees.  
  
"How's it goin'?" she asked, walking further into the room.  
  
He didn't answer immediately, and she was about to ask again, when something struck her as odd.  
  
"Logan, it's not turned on," she pointed out.  
  
He seemed to look at the screen closely for a moment, then replied seriously, "I knew that."  
  
Unexpectedly he turned to her and said abruptly, "Dinner."  
  
She smiled at that. "I got us something special." Sure of his reaction, she asked "What would you say to chicken?"  
  
He thought for a moment. "Fifteen seconds."  
  
"What?"  
  
"That's what I told him, but I can't remember if that was right."  
  
"What was right?" This was not the response she had expected to her carefully planned surprise.  
  
"I think it depends how cold they are," he continued, obviously deep in thought about the matter.  
  
Okay, so this is weird, thought Max looking at him.  
  
"Did it run around at all?" he asked her.  
  
Not realizing he was still talking about the chicken, she frowned suspiciously at him.  
  
"Logan, how the hell would I know?"  
  
"I gotta cook it!" he protested.  
  
I gotta call Bling, was her next thought.  
  
Watching him about to work on the laptop again that was still turned off, she decided she'd had enough.  
  
"Okay, you're comin' through to the other room. We've got the fire goin'."  
  
Without arguing, he wheeled himself towards the door. Halfway there he looked up at her and said, "Max," as if he'd just recognized who she was.  
  
It seemed like a good sign. She preferred it to the whole chicken dealio.  
  
Unfortunately he stopped at the door.  
  
"Logan, come with me to the fire," she pleaded.  
  
Surprisingly he said quite normally, "Okay. Is it cold in here?"  
  
Rolling her eyes she waited for him to wheel through to the living room, where Zack had the wood beginning to crackle, the fire sluggishly emitting small puffs of smoke into the room before it caught properly and blazed efficiently.  
  
Logan got halfway to the fire when his body seemed to catch up with his mind. He looked up at Max to find the room swaying alarmingly.  
  
Something in his attitude made her look at him quickly.  
  
This time he was unable to control the trembling that swept over him.  
  
He took one look at her then admitted in a rush, "I don't feel so good."  
  
Max couldn't decide if she was glad he'd finally admitted he felt bad, or whether she should be alarmed on the theory that he had to be feeling 'really' bad to make such an admission.  
  
Men!  
  
*********************************  
  
"You were really spacin' there for a while," Max smiled at the memory.  
  
Leaning forward in his chair, slowly thawing, the despised blanket tucked around his legs and two hot cups of coffee inside him, Logan looked into the now roaring fire. Unable to stop his own smile that was wide with embarrassment, he covered his face with his hands. "Don't remind me," he begged.  
  
"I don't aim to let you forget," Max contradicted him, enjoying herself.  
  
Logan narrowed his eyes, and looked at her. "Can't I give you some drug or something to make you forget?"  
  
"Won't work, we were trained to overcome that sort of thing."  
  
"Damn. Guess I'll have to resort to 'old fashioned - straight down the line' bribery," he finished.  
  
"Yeah?" He had her attention now.  
  
"But seeing as how you won't let me leave this fire..."  
  
"I could get it for you," she suggested, with a hint of her sexy smile.  
  
Logan considered her carefully. "I'd have to be sure you'd keep your end of the bargain. I mean, how do I know that you won't accept this fabulous bribe, then torment me for the rest of my life?"  
  
Suddenly his eyes lit with the realization of what he'd just said. "Or you might go and blab to Bling or something," he finished quickly to cover his confusion.  
  
"Guess you'll just have to trust me." Max looked steadily at Logan, something in her voice daring him to look in her eyes - very briefly, before he returned his own gaze to the fire.  
  
"Anyway," he said, trying to cover the moment, "there's something in my bag that's for you. Just open it and it's sitting on top."  
  
She gave him a small, suspicious smile as she stood up. "Don't move," she warned him.  
  
Logan smiled to himself as she walked away.  
  
He looked up to see her return a few minutes later, her look a mixture of surprise and pleasure.  
  
"How does it rate as a bribe?" he asked tentatively.  
  
"I thought you were too busy saving the world?"  
  
"Well I'm not doing too great on that front at the moment," he stated, unable to hide a hint of the dissatisfaction he felt. "So," he smiled at her, making an effort to lighten the mood, "I think you said somethin' about kickin' back and eating S'mores last weekend."  
  
"There's hope for you yet," she said admiringly.  
  
"Yeah." He sounded a little unconvinced. "Anyway, I was sorry about how things turned out last week. I kinda hoped we'd have the chance this time."  
  
"Maybe there's something to be said for hypothermia after all."  
  
"Let's not get too carried away," he grimaced.  
  
"Well, I got me a bag of marshmallows, a couple of Hershey bars and some graham crackers. We're gonna be makin' some S'mores and you're chained to the fire for the night."  
  
She came round to sit in front of him on a small footstool that was in front of the fire.  
  
"Are you gonna start making those?" asked Logan.  
  
"Might spoil our dinner. Zack's cooking," she added.  
  
"In that case, start making them." Logan made a face, "You genetically engineered types can't cook anyway."  
  
Easily swayed, she opened the packet of marshmallows and attached one to a long stick of kindling.  
  
Logan watched her look of concentration, her face glowing with the reflection of the dancing flames as she roasted it. Finally, after several inspections, she declared it to be perfect. She then put it between two of the graham crackers, making sure a couple of pieces of the Hershey bar were melting nicely between the crackers.  
  
Turning to Logan, she held it out to him.  
  
"Open up," she commanded.  
  
"You first," Logan argued.  
  
"Uh uh. I want to watch the look on your face when you realize what you've been missing all this time."  
  
With a steady hand she held it up to his mouth, an expectant half-smile on her lips, waiting for his response.  
  
Logan, with one of his own quirky smiles, leaned forward and slowly put it in his mouth.  
  
"It's hot," Max suddenly warned him - too late.  
  
"So that's what I've been missing?" Logan asked, several minutes and a burnt mouth later.  
  
"Hey, it's all part of the experience."  
  
"Dinner's ready," came Zack's voice from the doorway.  
  
Logan wondered irritably why Zack always managed to sound so disapproving.  
  
"Where do you want to eat?"  
  
"We'll eat here in front of the fire," said Max. "I'll help you serve."  
  
Passing Logan the stick she added, "You can make me one while you're waiting."  
  
A short while later she returned with hers and Logan's dinner.  
  
"Where's my S'mores?" she demanded.  
  
"I ate it," he admitted guiltily, "but I'll ..." cook you another, he was about to say, when his eyes fell on the bowl with his dinner.  
  
"Max, what is this?" he asked suspiciously.  
  
"Well, with you 'off the planet' so to speak, we had to scrap the chicken idea. It might taste better than it looks," Max suggested hopefully.  
  
"I know he doesn't like me, but don't you think this is taking it a bit far?"  
  
Before she had a chance to contradict him, Zack returned.  
  
Covering his trepidation admirably, Logan bravely put his fork into the bowl, trying to not wrinkle his nose as he did so. What was that smell?  
  
He survived the first taste -just. "Mmm, Zack," he floundered on, "this is ." Struggling for the right word, he said, "It's..." Then swallowing hard he tried a different tack, "Is this a Manticore recipe?"  
  
Max, on the other hand, wasn't nearly so polite. "Zack, what is in this?" she asked, with a look while not entirely of disgust, very close to it.  
  
Zack seemed neither bothered by the comments or by the taste of the food. He ignored the one, and consumed the other with gusto.  
  
"Just as well I still got my S'mores," Max consoled herself.  
  
*****************************  
  
Max left Logan in front of the fire with his laptop on his knees - this time turned on.  
  
Logan had made sure that the cabin had a phone, and he'd spoken to Bling before dinner as soon as he had been feeling better. Max noticed he made no mention of the evening's events, but would have been surprised if he had. From the look on Logan's face, it was obvious no further news had come in.  
  
As Zack helped Max with the dishes, she thought he seemed a bit uptight, even more so than usual.  
  
Max passed a few comments about nothing in particular, when Zack said abruptly, "Is Logan okay?"  
  
"Sure, he's fine," she replied surprised.  
  
"I'm sorry about the fire, Max. I didn't know ..." His voice trailed off a little.  
  
Max had the feeling that apologizing was a new experience for him.  
  
"You know," he finished uncomfortably.  
  
"It wasn't your fault, Zack," she told him simply.  
  
"I had a look at the car heater. I can fix it in the morning."  
  
Max was touched. "That's really nice, Zack," she said, thinking back to Logan's words before about Zack not liking him. "You wanna eat some S'mores with us?"  
  
"Don't you think you and I should head back out to Charlie's and see what we can find?"  
  
"We can do that in the morning."  
  
"You said Logan's okay now."  
  
"I know," she bristled at his words.  
  
"So you'd rather spend the night in front of the fire with Logan, instead of doin' the job we came to."  
  
"That's exactly what I wanna do," she thought.  
  
When she didn't answer, he shot out, "You've got your head in the clouds, Maxie. I knew it would be like this if 'he' came along."  
  
"His name is Logan," she reminded him, "and you don't call the shots around here, Zack."  
  
He glared at her for a moment, then grabbing his jacket from where it was on the back of one of the chairs, he said coldly, "I'm goin' for a walk."  
  
*******************************  
  
Logan wheeled through at that moment.  
  
"Was that Zack goin' out?" he asked, having heard the raised voices and putting two and two together. His math was correct.  
  
"Yeah, he said he wanted to go for a walk." Logan could hear the confusion in her voice.  
  
"He's a hard guy to have as a brother, huh?"  
  
"It's like he's never gotten out of Manticore. He's still tryin' to live 'that' life out in the real world, and I don't want that," she finished intently, her dark eyes holding fast to Logan's green ones. She stood there thinking about all the things her life was now. "The truth is," she told Logan softly, "the more you let go of Manticore, the more you have in the real world."  
  
He simply looked up at her, an unspoken current of understanding passing between them.  
  
"C'mon," she said gently, reluctantly breaking the moment, "We got some S'mores to eat."  
  
***************************  
  
"So, you all warmed up now?" Max asked Logan some time later, the almost empty packet of marshmallows at their feet, and just the light of the fire to see by.  
  
Max had insisted in turning all the lights off - "So that it'll be like a real campfire," she'd explained.  
  
"Just about," he replied, debating if he should have one more S'mores to finish off. He was beginning to feel quite sleepy.  
  
"Maybe you should sleep out here tonight," she had just said, when unexpectedly the lights came on.  
  
Max jumped up to see Zack walking purposefully towards them. It was clear by his attitude he had something to say.  
  
"While you two were making S'mores, someone's been burning down Charlie's place, and any evidence with it," he finished scathingly.  
  
Max and Logan looked at each other.  
  
"How do you know this?" asked Logan.  
  
"I took a walk," he answered shortly.  
  
"You wanna come and check it out 'now' Max?" he asked, implying by his tone that he thought it was already too late.  
  
She looked down at Logan who was studying his feet. He let out a frustrated sigh. "We should'a stayed longer. We might've found something."  
  
"You know we couldn't," she told him harshly.  
  
"You and Zack had better go there now," he said, frowning up at her, "see what you can see."  
  
"Keys?"  
  
"Keys," he repeated, thinking hard. Everything before dinner was still a bit hazy. It didn't help to have Zack staring down at him.  
  
Max headed off to his bedroom to look for them. "Got 'em," she called out, as she went to her room for her jacket.  
  
Coming back to the fire, she said to Logan, with what she hoped was a small smile of encouragement, "We won't be long."  
  
***********************  
  
Max got silently into the car.  
  
"We've lost our best opportunity to crack this thing," Zack told her, mind, as ever, on the mission.  
  
"Don't go blaming Logan," she snapped, "he's hard enough on himself," she added almost inaudibly.  
  
Zack looked at her thoughtfully for a minute, then said, as if he wasn't quite sure of her reaction, "You never told me how he came to be in a wheelchair."  
  
She was silent for so long he thought she wasn't going to reply. At length she said in a neutral voice, "It was an Eyes Only thing. He was trying to get a mother and her daughter into witness protection."  
  
"And?" he prompted her when she didn't continue.  
  
She shook her head, remembering how she'd watched the shooting on TV.  
  
"Entertainment for the masses," she thought sourly.  
  
She forced herself to continue, giving him the edited version. "Logan had the little girl in his arms. He was shot in the back. Severed his spinal cord," she finished bleakly.  
  
"Did you know him then?" asked Zack quietly.  
  
"It was not long after we met," she finished, after a slight pause.  
  
Zack nodded silently.  
  
"He hates being in that chair," she added softly, thinking of Logan's words to her as he sat where she did now, something of his hurt reflected in her own voice.  
  
Zack spoke with feeling. "I don't blame him."  
  
She looked across at her brother, wondering why she'd shared that with him.  
  
"Here we are, and there's not much left," said Zack at that moment, shaking his head at the still smouldering embers.  
  
They got out and examined the scene. The fire had been so intense there was very little left.  
  
"This was no accident," said Max, her senses detecting the smell of burnt gas. "Someone's torched the place. No way all these buildings would have gone up together in this kind of weather."  
  
"Well, if there was anything here to link Charlie to that vigilante group, it's now just a pile of ashes," Zack stated.  
  
"Shh, what's that noise?" asked Max suddenly. Following the sounds, she came to an old wreck of a car, and as she opened the door, a large black shape rushed out at her, barking a greeting.  
  
"Hey there fella," she crooned to him. Overjoyed to have some company again, it obviously didn't have a problem with her cat DNA.  
  
Zack, meanwhile, checked the shed where Charlie's body had lain. It too was a smouldering mess. He was quite sure the body would have been in there too.  
  
"Solves the problem of any of Logan's prints still being detected on the murder weapon," remarked Max, coming up to him, the dog bounding at her side.  
  
"Whoever it is, they've gone to a lot of trouble to cover their tracks. Question is, how far will they go?"  
  
His words made her go cold. "Logan," she suddenly said, her eyes wide.  
  
"Small town like this. It would be easy for someone to find out where we were staying," Zack replied matter-of-factly.  
  
"We gotta get back," she said urgently, opening the hatch to let the dog jump in.  
  
Her expression was etched on Zack's mind as they drove back to the cabin, forcing him to admit the truth that had been staring him in the face ever since he'd come to Seattle: it was he who held the key to her past, but Logan Cale held the key to her future.  
  
TBC  
  
Sorry about another cliffhanger!! 


	8. Man's best friend

Thanks once more for all your reviews, they are very, very much appreciated as always.  
  
My thanks as usual to my very patient Beta, Alaidh!!  
  
A/N: Neither the author or her beta know a great deal about logging camps, so please take note that this is all a product of the author's imagination!! Other than that, please read and enjoy!!!  
  
Chapter 8.  
  
Left to himself, Logan moodily tossed another log on the fire, watching the flames sizzle slightly as the moisture in the log was evaporated.  
  
He didn't know how long he sat mesmerized by the flames, but eventually he looked around, and seeing the remains of their S'mores, gathered them up and took them out to the kitchen, with the intention of making himself a hot drink.  
  
Away from the fire, it was noticeable how cold the rest of the house was. "Next time I come up here in summer," he muttered, as he lit the gas to boil the elderly kettle they were supplied with.  
  
Looking in the fridge, he found Max's prized chicken. Half-smiling he realized she must have killed one of the chickens from Charlie's place, and wondered how he'd feel about cooking and eating stolen goods. Something of his mind's earlier confusion came back to him, but he couldn't remember why it was important to him that Max had snapped the chicken's neck.  
  
He had just put the milk down on the table when he thought he heard a sound outside. The worst of the storm seemed to have passed, and the wild gale had been subdued to fresh winds.  
  
He paused, listening, but the sound wasn't repeated.  
  
Having made his coffee, he pulled off the blanket that was still wrapped around his legs, and carefully wedging the hot drink between them, knowing Bling would have a fit if he saw him, he wheeled back to the fire, quickly putting the hot drink down on a small table nearby.  
  
He wondered how Max and Zack were doing, thinking to himself with a wry smile that Zack would be a lot more relaxed being alone with Max. Unexpectedly, he heard the sound again.  
  
Startled, this time sure he heard a noise from behind the kitchen door, he tensed, not quite sure what to do. He carried his gun with him, but that was in his bag in the bedroom.  
  
With a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, he couldn't help thinking he didn't want to go through the evening's events at Cape Haven again. He was still coming to terms with the images of the four men he had killed.  
  
The shattering of glass in the backdoor resolved the issue.  
  
It was too late to do anything.  
  
**********************************  
  
Max and Zack turned into the road where the cabin was.  
  
"We'll park the car away from the house, just in case," Zack said, quickly glancing at Max's profile.  
  
Her face was expressionless. Her eyes intent on the road as she skidded to a quick halt, far enough away from the cabin where their lights wouldn't be seen.  
  
"We're probably just jumping to conclusions," Zack added.  
  
"Yeah, right," was Max's grim reply, the gnawing in her stomach not relieved.  
  
They both opened their doors, and as they did so, the big black dog in the back that had sat quietly throughout the short trip back, saw a chance for freedom and scrambled over the back seat to jump out Zack's door.  
  
"Don't make a sound!" Max growled at it, the dog becoming more subdued immediately.  
  
Without a noise, their black clothing swallowed up in the moonless night, they made their way to the cabin.  
  
All looked as they had left it, there was no sign of another car, just the same few lights burning in the windows.  
  
Zack signaled to Max, and they split up, Zack to the back door, Max to the front door, which opened onto the living room.  
  
Holding her breath, she slowly opened the door, willing it not to creak.  
  
The words she heard made her eyes narrow, her mouth in a straight line.  
  
"My Mamma always told me I shouldn't hit a man with glasses, but she didn't say anything about wheelchairs."  
  
The sound of flesh hitting flesh followed his words.  
  
"It looks like I'm just gonna have to fill in the gaps of your education for you," a voice said from the doorway.  
  
He should have been afraid, but all he saw was a young woman, a very beautiful young woman.  
  
In that instant, Zack exploded from the kitchen, which was Max's signal.  
  
Logan, still in his wheelchair, his hands tied behind his back, and a trickle of blood at the side of his mouth, watched as Max and Zack flew into action.  
  
The whole affair was a bit blurred as the man who had hit him, true to his upbringing, had very thoughtfully put Logan's glasses down on a small lamp table.  
  
With consternation, Logan could just make out his glasses being knocked to the floor, as the man Zack fought fell against the table. The next instant they were kicked by the second man who came at Zack, to land under Max's feet.  
  
Logan hadn't brought a spare pair with him, and he grimaced in readiness, expecting her foot to crunch down on them any minute. Breathing a sigh of relief, squinting slightly he saw them knocked by Max's foot tantalizingly close to his own feet. 'If only I had my hands free,' he thought, as Zack threw another figure into his range of vision.  
  
With a sinking feeling, Logan saw the big man stepping backwards, one large foot poised inches from his glasses, one large foot about to relentlessly smash them into pieces.  
  
Hardly able to take in what happened next, a black shape came bounding over, and stopped immediately behind the man. The assailant, his legs now caught on the shape behind him, felt himself toppling backwards towards Logan, who with his hands behind his back, could do nothing to save himself.  
  
Seeing Logan's predicament at the same moment, Zack and Max, with their incredible reflexes, both reached forward to grab the man by an arm on either side, and by throwing their own weight slightly forward were able to steady him and prevent him from crashing into Logan.  
  
Breathing out and letting his tensed muscles relax, Logan was amazed to have his glasses deposited in his lap by Charlie's very happy, tail- wagging, big, black dog.  
  
Of the three intruders, two lay unconscious on the ground, and the man who had hit Logan now stared into the startled faces of the two X5's.  
  
"You!" both Max and Zack said at the same moment, then looked at each other in surprise.  
  
The man they held was Brandon.  
  
Logan cringed. This was gonna take some explaining.  
  
In unison, Zack and Max looked at Logan, their faces bright with suspicion.  
  
"Can someone undo my hands?" seemed to be the safest thing for him to say.  
  
******************************  
  
"Okay, start talking," Max spat out at Brandon. "What were you doing here?"  
  
Looking from Max to Zack, and seeing their grim faces, something of the bravado inside the lumberjack was significantly quenched.  
  
His fellow protagonists lay still in a heap on the floor, now conscious, but looking seedy to say the least.  
  
Logan had been untied and after wiping his glasses on his sweatshirt, was glad to have them safely back on.  
  
As Brandon hesitated to reply, Max considered him carefully. "I still haven't decided if you've had enough 'educating'."  
  
Logan, the dog now sitting quietly next to his chair, could see that Max's idea of education had no appeal for the man.  
  
"After those two left the bar," and he nodded towards Zack and Logan, which made Max look in Logan's direction, "these other two guys in the bar came up to us and asked us if we wanted to make an extra bit'a money. Well, it's hard times, a man's gotta make a livin'," he excused himself pathetically.  
  
"Go on," grated Zack.  
  
"He gave us five hundred dollars a piece to get you to leave Morristown and stop bothering about ol' Charlie."  
  
"Why did you leave it so late to show up here?" put in Logan.  
  
"We had some stuff to do first," Brandon muttered.  
  
"That 'stuff' wouldn't have included burning down Charlie's place, would it?" asked Max, her voice dangerously soft.  
  
Brandon looked at her, surprised. His guilt was written on his face for the world to see.  
  
"You're just a real hero, aren't you?" she added with contempt.  
  
Brandon said nothing.  
  
"Give us a name," menaced Zack.  
  
The big man shrugged. "I can't. He gave us the cash and left."  
  
"You've never seen these men before?" asked Logan.  
  
"I've seen 'em around, here and there."  
  
"This is a small town. I find it hard to believe you don't know who they were, or what they were doing in town," replied Logan sceptically.  
  
"Maybe I'd better 'teach' you a bit more," suggested Max, twisting the man's arm behind his back in a sudden move, with enough force to make him cry out in pain.  
  
"Okay, okay, I'll tell ya what I know," yelped Brandon quickly.  
  
"And," prompted Max, easing the pressure, but not letting go.  
  
"I think they were workin' for one of the logging companies, don't know which one. There are a lot a' small outfits up here; they come an' go, you know."  
  
Max looked at Logan. It wasn't much to go on.  
  
Logan shrugged. It didn't appear as if they were going to get any more information from them.  
  
"Let' em go," he stated.  
  
"Just make sure there's no 'next time,'" grated Max, "'cause I might not be feelin' so forgiving."  
  
At her words, the other two men scrambled to their feet, keen to get out of there as quickly as possible. Without a backward glance, all three skulked to the door, and out to wherever they'd hidden their car.  
  
With a look towards Logan, Max got up and left the room, returning a few minutes later with a wet facecloth.  
  
"You okay?" Max asked Logan, taking his chin in one hand and gently dabbing at the cut at the side of his mouth.  
  
"My smile might be a bit crooked for a few days," he said lightly, once she'd finished.  
  
"Here, hold this to it for a few minutes, should help," she said, giving him the cold cloth.  
  
Looking from Max to Logan, Zack said gruffly, "I'll go make sure they've gone."  
  
As Zack went out the front door, Max went over to the fire and stoked it up, putting on some more wood. She stared into the flames thoughtfully.  
  
Logan watched her for a moment, then tossing the cloth onto the lamp table, pushed himself over to the fire.  
  
"Funny how Zack knew Brandon," she suddenly said in a conversational tone.  
  
Logan swallowed. 'Where was she going with this?' he wondered.  
  
"Did he meet Brandon in the bar too?" she pressed.  
  
"He kinda 'ran into Zack' you might say," said Logan evasively.  
  
"When you two were 'keepin' a low profile'?" she finished sweetly.  
  
"Exactly. You know, I've been thinking," said Logan quickly, desperate to change the topic, "Brandon said these logging operations come and go. What better cover for a training camp up here?"  
  
Max looked at him, her eyes saying, "I know exactly what you're up to Logan Cale."  
  
"So," he pressed on, rubbing the back of his head, "I think we should look into that aspect tomorrow."  
  
"You do, do you?" she asked in a voice that, while it sounded innocent enough, told Logan she hadn't been fooled for a minute.  
  
"They've gone," said Zack, coming back in and sitting in one of the armchairs by the fire.  
  
For once, Logan was glad to have him interrupt a conversation he was having with Max.  
  
With a small smile at Logan, Max said to Zack, "Logan thinks they've used a logging camp as a cover for the training camp."  
  
"Makes sense," acknowledged Zack.  
  
"What do we do about it? We can hardly search the area and check out every logging operation. Who knows how many there are?"  
  
"We'd only be interested in the ones that are relatively recent," put in Zack.  
  
Logan sat quietly for a moment, thinking, then looked up, his eyes searching.  
  
"You want this?" asked Max, taking his laptop from behind her.  
  
"There must be a central body in the area. This is the main area for logging in these parts. The way I understand it, companies come in and lease the land from the government," said Logan, booting up his computer as he spoke. "I'll look into it, see what I can find."  
  
*************************************  
  
Nearly two hours later, Logan closed his laptop saying, "That's it," stretching his back muscles out after having been in the same position for so long.  
  
Max sat curled in one of the armchairs, her feet tucked under her, wrapped in a blanket.  
  
Hearing Logan's words, Zack came in from the kitchen where he'd been making coffee, and sat down in the other armchair, interested to hear what Logan had to say. He didn't like to admit it, but the man was a genius when it came to gleaning information.  
  
"There's a Forestry Commissioner here in town, who's responsible for all the logging that goes on in the area. He's been contacted by his Executive Officer that a journalist from Seattle is doing an article on re- forestation, and is to give said journalist all assistance in touring logging sites in the area."  
  
"I take it 'said journalist' is Logan Cale?" asked Max.  
  
"With entourage," added Logan.  
  
"So we check out the most recent ones, and look for evidence of a cover- up," said Zack, apparently not displeased by the idea.  
  
"Well, someone's pretty keen to cover up something: Charlie's death, our friends tonight," Logan leaned forward, rubbing his hands together, "it all seems to point that we're onto something."  
  
Seeing Logan stifle a yawn, Max said to him, "You really should get some sleep."  
  
Logan couldn't help notice that, as yet, Zack showed no inclination to go to bed, but he knew his own body was protesting with the treatment it had received and was probably calling out for a good night's sleep. Well, he couldn't give it that, but a few hours would be better than nothing.  
  
"You got enough blankets in there?" Max called to him as he headed for the bedroom.  
  
"Yep," he called back.  
  
Sometime later, having got himself comfortable in bed, Logan heard a knock on his door.  
  
A little surprised he called out, "Yeah."  
  
"You decent?" came Max's voice.  
  
"I'm in bed. You can come in." Wondering what she wanted, he raised himself on his elbows as she came in with a blanket in her hand.  
  
Almost shyly she said, "You left this blanket out in the kitchen. I was worried you might need it. You want me to put it on?"  
  
Logan shrugged, "After tonight, the more the merrier."  
  
"I must admit to an ulterior motive," Max confessed, as she shook the blanket out and threw it on the bed.  
  
Logan raised his brows questioningly.  
  
"I don't think I could survive another of Zack's meals," she confessed. "So I intend to keep you in one piece so that you can cook that chicken."  
  
"That would be the one you 'stole' from Charlie's," said Logan, a hint of disapproval in his voice.  
  
"Well, it was orphaned. I thought it should go to a good home," was Max's ingenious reply. "Night."  
  
Lying back on his pillows, Logan smiled into the darkness.  
  
.  
  
**************************************  
  
"John Burton?" said Logan, stretching out his hand, "I'm Logan Cale. You should have been advised of my coming."  
  
"Yes, Mr. Cale, I received notification this morning," replied the other man, shaking hands with Logan, and covering his surprise that the journalist was in a wheelchair. "It's always the same, we're always the last to know out here. All the bigwigs in their fancy offices make the decisions, and they've never even been to a logging operation."  
  
John Burton was a disgruntled man, thought Logan, but probably an honest one.  
  
"It's like that with everything nowadays," agreed Logan sympathetically.  
  
"So, you're interested in re-forestation?"  
  
"Well, that and the industry generally. I was hoping to visit a few operations, get a feel for what's involved."  
  
"Between you and me, Mr. Cale, the industry is nothing like it used to be. It's been swamped by 'fly-by-nighters' who are just in it to cut the trees, make their dough, and then they're off before they've done any re- forestation."  
  
"Doesn't the government try to do something about it?" asked Logan, appalled.  
  
"Huh," snorted Burton with disgust. "They just want the cold cash. Half the time someone's paid to look the other way. The forests are being ruined."  
  
Logan listened with interest, thinking this might be something for Eyes Only to look into at a later date. Perhaps John Burton could be recruited to the informant net.  
  
"Aren't there any legitimate operations up here?" asked Logan.  
  
"There are some, the ones that have been in the industry for a long time, and know the importance of re-forestation if they want to have a business in twenty years."  
  
Logan nodded. "Would I be able to look at a list of all logging operations in the area?"  
  
"Sure. It's all here in my records. You'll also see listed, their length of tenure and the acreage of land being logged."  
  
As he spoke, John Burton went to his records. Logan smiled to himself, no wonder he couldn't access any of this information last night - John Burton kept them all on paper, in a filing cabinet. Seeing his look and guessing something of his surprise, Burton explained, "It's hopeless up here, too many brownouts. In the end I reverted back to our old filing system because I kept losing stored information. The computers we had were from the 90's. Hardly up to date," he snorted.  
  
"I have two associates with me," said Logan. "Do you mind if I call them in and we assess which ones would be most suitable for us to visit."  
  
"No problem. You can use the office down the hall there."  
  
**********************************  
  
"What exactly are we lookin' for here?" asked Max, as the three of them perused the records.  
  
"If we assume the camp was just a short term training camp, I'd say we'd be looking for something established within the last three or four months," Logan replied, head down in one of the files.  
  
"I've got one here established eight weeks ago," said Zack immediately.  
  
"And I've got one that's about fourteen weeks old," added Max.  
  
Flipping through his own pile of files, Logan shook his head. "Well, these all seem to be established companies. Been in the area for years."  
  
"Okay, if my theory's correct, that leaves us with these two to look at. I'll call John in."  
  
John Burton was very helpful, but he was quite insistent that they see one of the older established operations to get a good feel for the area.  
  
"One of the best," he enthused, "is Carmichael Logging. Well organized, been in the business for years. I should take you there first so that you can see a genuine operation."  
  
"Sounds like a good idea," agreed Logan easily, for the sake of his cover.  
  
********************************  
  
Charlie's dog had insisted on going with them, looking so doleful when they had tried to leave the cabin earlier without him, that Max insisted Logan stop and let him in.  
  
"You want a smelly dog to travel in the car with us?" asked Logan doubtfully, "and what are we meant to do with it when we finish here?"  
  
"We'll work out somethin', won't we fella," she turned to the dog who was now happily ensconced in the back, next to Logan's chair.  
  
"Bye the way, you can turn the heater on," she added.  
  
Logan turned to her in surprise.  
  
"Zack fixed it while you were still asleep," she explained.  
  
"Thank you, Zack." Logan tried to sound thankful, and to resist the resentment he could feel that Zack, who didn't need heaters, had fixed Logan's because he did need one.  
  
Carmichael's operation was quite a long way out of town, and Logan was a bit annoyed they had to travel so far just to look plausible.  
  
Burton had arranged for the manager to meet them, who would take them on a tour of the site.  
  
Because it was a long way out of town, the workers lived on the main site, traveling to the actual tree felling areas. "The whole site is fully portable," the manager told them. "We re-locate when necessary."  
  
The three of them listened politely as the tour of the base camp was conducted. They were shown surprisingly up to date equipment that wasn't currently being used, workers quarters, one trailer devoted to their environmental studies, office buildings etc, finishing in the dining trailer where they were each given a folder of brochures which explained in detail their re-forestation programme, and a souvenir pen with the company's name printed in gold lettering, 'Carmichael, McFarland and Davis'.  
  
"It's all very impressive," acknowledged Logan, taking a sip of coffee.  
  
Charlie's dog had accompanied them on their tour, and had followed them quietly around the site. Max noticed however, when they walked into the mess trailer, he seemed to become a little agitated. She didn't think much of it at the time, just assumed the dog preferred to be outside.  
  
At that moment, the door to the kitchen opened, the cook coming out with a plate of sandwiches.  
  
In a flash the black dog had darted through the doorway.  
  
Max jumped up to follow it, when to her surprise, it came out again, and walking straight up to Logan, deposited a pair of steel-framed glasses in his lap.  
  
Logan looked at Max for a second, then quickly took the glasses and put them in his pocket before the manager, who was temporarily talking to another man, turned around.  
  
Finishing their coffee and sandwiches, they thanked the manager for their tour, and headed for the car. The dog followed close behind.  
  
Logan directed a look at Max.  
  
Casually she came behind him, putting her hands on his shoulders as if to help him over the rough ground. Putting her face close to his she made a comment about the size of the logging trucks.  
  
Under his breath he said to her, "I predict you're gonna sprain your ankle."  
  
Letting go of his chair, she turned around to see where the dog was. He turned out to be immediately behind her. Quite suddenly, she did a spectacular flip over the dog, landing heavily on her ankle, and crying out in pain.  
  
Logan spun around in time to see Zack and John Burton rush to her aid.  
  
"Are you okay?" asked the latter with concern when he saw Max's beautiful face twisted in pain.  
  
"Let me look at it Max," said Zack, kneeling down beside her, and gently twisting her foot.  
  
"Ow," she cried out in pain. "Do you think it's broken?" she asked pathetically, which made Logan duck his head to hide the smile on his lips.  
  
"Is there a doctor in town?" asked Zack.  
  
John Burton looked at Logan. "There is a doctor in Morristown. You'd best take her in there to see him."  
  
"I'm sorry about this, John, it looks like we won't be able to get out to those other two sites today, and I'm not sure how long I can stay in the area. I'll have to be in touch with you."  
  
Burton nodded understandingly. To Zack he said, "Would you like me to help you get her to the car?"  
  
"No, it's fine thank you," answered Zack, lifting Max in his arms effortlessly, who whimpered beautifully for the effect.  
  
Not sure he was entirely happy about this development, Logan pushed on to the car, while Zack waited, with Max still in his arms, for him to unlock the door. "You can put her down now Zack, nobody's watching," he suggested purposefully.  
  
"Can't be too careful when you're on an undercover op like this," replied Zack, sensing Logan's discomfort and not quite willing to relinquish her yet.  
  
In a show of X5 strength, he slipped one hand out from under her legs, taking her entire weight on one arm, opened the door, then slid her in to her seat.  
  
Max gave him a look that looked remarkably like 'smart ass', and put her seat belt on, leaving Zack to stow the wheelchair and make sure the dog was in.  
  
"Do I get my 'Oscar' now?" she smiled at Logan.  
  
"I think Zack was goin' for an award too," muttered Logan, turning the key.  
  
Max looked at him, considering his profile with her sassy smile, but was unable to say more as Zack got in.  
  
Changing the subject (with some reluctance), Max said, "Well I guess you're glad we brought Charlie's dog along after all."  
  
"Yep," agreed Logan, pulling out. "Looks like we found where Charlie worked, now to find some evidence of his 'vigilante training camp'."  
  
TBC 


	9. Bob

Once again, many thanks to all who took the time and effort to review, it was very much appreciated as always!!  
  
My thanks to my beta, Alaidh for slaving over a cold computer!!  
  
Chapter 9  
  
"So what makes you so sure that dog got the right glasses?" There was a strong hint of doubt in Zack's voice, as he looked out the car window, aware of the dog breathing heavily down his neck. They'd stopped a few miles from the logging camp on a side road in the forest to discuss their options.  
  
"I was watchin' him, Zack. As soon as he got near that kitchen, he got all kinda' jumpy, then as soon as the cook came out, he dove in there and headed straight for the bench with those glasses. It was like he knew they were there," finished Max, obviously impressed.  
  
"Why give them to Logan?" he asked, still not convinced.  
  
"Because Logan wears glasses." Holding up the pair the dog had given to Logan she said, "and they're not unlike his, both steel-framed."  
  
"I didn't see any sign of a vigilante training camp," put in Zack again.  
  
"I've been thinking about that," said Logan. "The manager said that everything was portable. I'd imagine they could move buildings around as they needed them."  
  
"Like kitchens," put in Max.  
  
Logan nodded.  
  
"That would make sense," agreed Zack. "Max said the dog didn't get jumpy until it went inside the mess room."  
  
"So," continued Max, taking up on his thought, "there was probably nothing familiar about the area where they are situated now."  
  
"We're gonna have to do some recon on this. We have to find that other site to verify what we suspect," said Logan, thoughtfully.  
  
"Can't you hack into their computers, get the information that way?" asked Max.  
  
Logan looked sceptical, "I'll try that of course, but if this is a covert operation, I'd be very surprised if it was linked to their everyday operations information, and I'm not sure I've got the time up here to crack codes."  
  
"Which leaves us?"  
  
"Which leaves us finding out what we can on site. There must be something here on site that inadvertently or otherwise, points to the location of the camp."  
  
"I say you drop Max and me off here now to do the recon," suggested Zack, keen to do something concrete.  
  
Logan hesitated. "We're dealing with people who'll kill to keep this secret. Do you think daytime recon is safe?"  
  
"It's what we're trained to do," stated Zack. He'd been through this with Logan before.  
  
"What will you do?" asked Max, more worried about any schemes Logan might have in his head.  
  
He hadn't really thought that far ahead. Frowning through the front windshield, he suggested, "I could always stay here and wait for you. I've got my laptop with me."  
  
"We might be hours, Logan," she protested.  
  
Thinking again, he said, "Why don't I go into town, see if I can pick up any information while I'm there, then meet you back here by five. By that time, the loggers will be returning to this site, so you probably wont be able to do much at that time, anyway."  
  
Zack shrugged. He seemed to think he and Max could get back to town with or without Logan.  
  
This time it was Max who hesitated.  
  
"Hey, if it's boring in town I just might have time to cook that ill gotten chicken of yours."  
  
This time Max smiled. "You sure know the way to a genetically engineered killing machine's heart."  
  
Logan jumped slightly as Zack got out and closed the door with enough force to make the dog bark.  
  
Max cast a glance at him as he waited impatiently for her to put Logan's wheelchair where it would be accessible for him to reach, then they both disappeared into the forest.  
  
*******************************  
  
Once Zack and Max had left the car, the black dog took it as his invitation to sit in the front seat next to Logan.  
  
Logan gave it a sideways glance. "I'm not sure about this, Dog. Aren't you meant to wear a seatbelt or something?"  
  
The dog didn't seem to care, but sat on the seat contentedly looking out the front window.  
  
It was a good forty minutes back into town, and well and truly lunchtime by the time they got there.  
  
He'd remembered seeing a diner next to the bar, which he knew he'd be able to access. Looking at the dog again, he wondered what it would eat. Max said she'd fed the dog before he'd got up, but he had no idea if it would be hungry now, and it appeared the only grocery store was on the high side that he was hesitant about navigating.  
  
Once again, as soon as the door opened, the dog jumped out, which wasn't really what Logan had wanted. He didn't know how obedient the animal was, and he was quite sure it wouldn't be welcome in the diner.  
  
Getting to the door, he tried the classic command: "Sit."  
  
To his surprise, the dog responded beautifully, sitting down immediately. Quite pleased with himself, Logan went inside.  
  
It wasn't an exciting menu, but he ordered a sandwich for himself, and two servings of meatloaf for the dog, and some sandwiches to go for Max and Zack, knowing Max would be unhappy missing her lunch.  
  
He sat where he could see the dog outside, but it simply lay there quietly, apparently half asleep.  
  
Logan had just collected the sandwiches he was to take with him, when out of the corner of his eye he saw the dog suddenly jump up as if it had seen a rabbit in a field to chase.  
  
"Damn," muttered Logan, hoping the animal hadn't run off down the street - not that he knew what they were going to do with the dog eventually, anyway.  
  
Getting out the door, he was surprised to find the dog at the door of the bar, barking and growling in a menacing manner that seemed totally incongruous to any behaviour it had displayed before. Two men stood baled up at the door, one in particular looking particularly unhappy about the situation.  
  
The two men tried to bluster their way past, but as they got closer to the dog it became even more vicious, baring it's teeth and attempting to bite them, particularly the man on the left who was closest to Logan.  
  
Logan watched the situation, not sure what to do until the man on the left completely lost his control and started to kick at the dog with a deliberate intent to hurt the animal, not merely scare it away.  
  
"Hey!" called Logan to the man, who looked up briefly only to continue his attempts to kick the dog, who insisted on barking and growling, its manner even more agitated.  
  
Trying a different approach, Logan called to the dog, but got no response there either. It appeared the man would seriously injure the dog unless he could call it off.  
  
Then across the way, he could hear a voice calling, "Bob, Bobbie!"  
  
Logan saw the dog stop for a moment distracted, then turn back to the two men.  
  
By this time, the person who had called him had come across the street. He looked to be a teenager, about seventeen or eighteen, Logan estimated.  
  
Coming up he grabbed 'Bob' by the collar, pulling him away with considerable force, and nearly earning a kick in the face for his efforts as the man coming out of the bar continued to kick at the dog even as it was being pulled off.  
  
Finally, he got the dog to calm down enough so that he could get a reasonable hold on it.  
  
Logan studied the men from the bar with interest. He knew he'd seen them before.  
  
They'd both been in the bar when he had entered with Max yesterday.  
  
Studying them carefully, he knew it was all beginning to fit into place as the words of Brandon came back to him: he'd spoken about two men in the bar offering him money to do their dirty work.  
  
Subconsciously, Logan rubbed his bruised face.  
  
"You can't control that dog, I'll have it shot," warned the man on the right who was an ordinary looking man, barely distinguishable from any of the other lumberjacks.  
  
The man on the left however, had one of those faces you couldn't forget. He looked like he may have been a boxer at some time by the shape of his nose. Logan thought he never wanted to get close enough to the man to find out. He looked just plain mean. With beady eyes that hid under a protruding forehead - the man was never gonna be a male model.  
  
He now turned those beady eyes in Logan's direction, but if he thought to intimidate, he was to be disappointed.  
  
Logan's own green eyes met the other man's cold grey eyes steadily.  
  
"You got a problem with dogs?" asked Logan politely, then with more of an edge he added, "or just that one in particular?"  
  
The lumberjack took a sudden step toward Logan, when the young man with the dog seemingly 'happened' to walk forward with the dog at the same time, thereby blocking his path.  
  
An annoyed look flashed over the man's face, but he said nothing and strode off down the footpath with his companion.  
  
Logan looked up at the young man with an amused look - the kid had guts. For someone so young, he had an impressive physique, being imposingly tall without having the gangling look that often accompanies that age.  
  
Logan held out his hand. "You're a handy young man to have around."  
  
After a little hesitation, the boy put his hand out. "This is Charlie's dog," he said, a note of disquiet in his voice.  
  
Logan nodded his head. "You a friend of Charlie's?"  
  
"Charlie doesn't have many friends. He's kind of a loner."  
  
Logan nodded again. "You wanna come in and have a coffee with me?"  
  
He studied Logan for a moment with his clear blue eyes, then said, "Okay."  
  
****************************  
  
The manager of Carmichael Logging Operations, Morristown, sat down at his computer to finish off his day's work. The final thing he had to do was send a list of all visitors to the board in Seattle. He'd made sure he had the name spelt correctly; they were very pedantic about things like that. Logan Cale, he typed in, then 'journalist', 'Seattle.' Within seconds the email had been received.  
  
*******************************  
  
"Is there anyone in there?" asked Zack, as Max jumped down from his shoulders.  
  
She shook her head, "All clear. I saw the manager leave a few moments ago. He locked the door after him and set the alarms."  
  
"Alarm type?"  
  
"Just basic," Max replied, "You got anything to eat on you? I'm starved."  
  
Zack looked at her. "No," he stated.  
  
"Sure hope Logan gets a chance ta cook that chicken."  
  
"Let's keep our attention on the task at hand."  
  
"Logan's really gonna owe me one for sending me out with no food for the day," she threatened.  
  
Zack made a cutting motion with his hand to signal her to be quiet, then proceeded to open the fuse box to detach the wires to the alarms.  
  
As Max had said, there was nothing hi-tech about it. Obviously, whoever did their system had not thought robbery a very real threat.  
  
They were in within seconds. Max's rumbling stomach giving her even more of an edge. She wanted to make sure she was there to meet Logan at five.  
  
Within seconds, Zack had the alarms deactivated, and they entered through one of the high back windows in the portable office.  
  
Taking it in turns, one would keep a look out, while the other checked through files, invoices, maps, anything that might lead to the whereabouts of the other camp.  
  
"Zack," whispered Max suddenly, "the trucks are returning with the men. The place will be swarming with 'em soon. We gotta go."  
  
"We haven't found a thing," Zack whispered back.  
  
"We'll have to come back tonight, then. Besides, we said we'd meet Logan at five, and I'm hungry!"  
  
Frustrated at their lack of success, nonetheless, Zack pulled out, both making their escape through the window, Zack activating the alarms once more so that no one would be aware of their visit.  
  
*****************************************  
  
"Damn. It's ten after five. Where's Logan?" Max paced up and down where they had planned to meet.  
  
Zack watched her quietly.  
  
"I hear a car," said Zack suddenly.  
  
Max looked up, an expectant look on her face. "That's him; I'm sure that's his car."  
  
Sure enough, in seconds the blue Aztek swept around the corner.  
  
Max was surprised to see someone else in the car with Logan.  
  
"How did it go your end?" Logan asked her, as she came up to his window.  
  
"No good. We only had about ten minutes clear between the manager leaving the office and the workers returning. We'll have to go back tonight," she finished disappointedly.  
  
"You wouldn't be thinking of that chicken would you?"  
  
"Somebody doesn't want me to have it," she admitted.  
  
"Well, I' got some good news for you," and he couldn't help sounding a little pleased with himself, "I think Riley here knows the location of the camp."  
  
"Hey, I might take you on all my jobs, Logan. I'm impressed."  
  
"I do admit to a little help," admitted Logan, tossing his head towards the dog. "Let me introduce you to 'Bob'."  
  
"Bob?" Max considered the dog for a moment. "I guess he looks like a 'Bob'."  
  
"You two wanna get in and I'll fill you in on the details?" suggested Logan.  
  
Max moved both the chair and 'Bob' (who seemed to think if there was a spare seat anywhere, it was his) into the back once more, then climbed into her seat next to Logan, with Riley now next to Zack.  
  
"You got any food?" asked Max, before he could say another thing.  
  
"I got you a sandwich. It's on the back seat."  
  
"Do you mean this?" asked Zack, holding up a paper bag.  
  
Logan did a double take as he looked at the bag. About to say 'yes' he stopped, mouth still open, looking at Max.  
  
"Food Logan," she said dangerously.  
  
Cringing slightly, he bravely admitted, "The dog ate it." Seeing her look he added quickly, "But we can stop in town and get you another."  
  
"If I don't pass out due to starvation before then," she finished bitingly, totally unaware of the effect she was having on the young man studying her profile from his seat next to Zack. He thought he'd never seen a more beautiful woman in his life.  
  
Max looked slightly appeased, then turned her dazzling smile to the young man. "I'm Max, that's Zack." she said.  
  
"I'm Riley."  
  
"So how'd you two meet up?" she asked, with a slight motion of her head towards Logan.  
  
"He saved Bob from the man, who I suspect, killed Charlie," answered Logan for the boy.  
  
"I told Logan he shouldn't mess with him - word is he's a real bad dude, plays dirty."  
  
Max looked at Logan.  
  
"I hardly even talked to the guy," said Logan with some indignation.  
  
"Spill it," said Max.  
  
Reducing his annoyance to a quick sideways glance at her, he gave her a rundown of the events in town.  
  
"Riley here told me Charlie was a real loner, but a great cook. He'd been working at a camp on Mine Road."  
  
"You mean the one we drove past on the way to his shack?" asked Max, frustrated that they'd been so close without realizing it.  
  
"Riley tells me it had been there close on three months. The men kept to themselves, rarely left the site."  
  
At this point Riley put in. "I used to go and visit Charlie sometimes when he was at his place, but once he started workin' with that outfit, it all got really weird, an' they wouldn't let me see him."  
  
"Did you ever get a look inside the camp?" asked Zack intently.  
  
"I can tell you one thing about that camp," said Riley darkly, "there was no logging going on there when I was there."  
  
"Tell them what you saw, Riley," encouraged Logan.  
  
"It was more like somethin' outta the movies - all sorta hi-tech stuff."  
  
Zack's eyes bored into him. "We need details," he stated in his intense way.  
  
Riley seemed a bit taken aback by his manner, but Max smiled at him and said, "Just tell us exactly what you saw."  
  
"The only time I got in there was one night when Charlie was first there; after that they wouldn't let me near the place. Anyway, it was all exercise equipment an' trainin' stuff, an' firin' ranges, things like that."  
  
Logan took up his story. "Riley last saw Charlie the day Zack did. I had to break it to him that Charlie was dead," he finished on a gentler note. "Riley said the day he'd seen Charlie, the camp had been all packed up and replaced with more conventional logging equipment, men moved out, no sign of what it once was."  
  
"There goes our evidence," said Max.  
  
"Only at this end," replied Logan. "What we have got is a lead on the company behind this, and even though we can't prove it, we probably know the man who killed Charlie and paid off Brandon and his friends to pay us a visit."  
  
They were back in town by now, and it was another cold, dark night.  
  
"Will there be anything open this time of night?" asked Logan to Riley suddenly, realizing he'd promised Max her sandwich, and they still hadn't bought any dog food yet either.  
  
Looking at the clock on the dash, Riley said, "Yeah, the bar, diner, drugstore, they'll all be still open. Friday night's always a busy one in town."  
  
***********************************  
  
Riley was right. It appeared every lumberjack in the mountains had turned up in Morristown that night.  
  
As they drove through the town, they could see the bar and other eating- places were filled to overflowing.  
  
Max looked at Logan, making a face, "What happened to sleepy hollow?"  
  
"The weekend," answered Logan.  
  
"You sure you wanna stop?"  
  
"I don't think we've got much food left at the cabin," he frowned.  
  
"Why don't you park somewhere, and Zack and I will go and get what we need, then head back to the cabin to eat. Riley, you wanna eat with us?"  
  
"No thanks. My Mom'll be waitin' for me."  
  
Logan had a sudden thought as they found somewhere at the end of town to park.  
  
"Riley, Bob's gonna be needing a home now that Charlie's gone. You think maybe."  
  
He saw the initial look of pleasure cross the boy's face, to be placed with one of hesitation, "I'm not sure what my Mom'd say. I'm not sure we could afford to keep 'im."  
  
Logan wondered for a moment how to deal with this issue without giving offence. "Riley, we don't want to leave Bob just roaming the streets. If it helps I could give you some money towards his upkeep. Might soften the blow for your Mom a bit," he suggested.  
  
Max turned to Riley with a smile as the young man still hesitated. "Don't worry, he's loaded. Do him good to get rid of some of it, and," she added, "we'd hate to hafta leave Bob on the street. We can't take him back to Seattle."  
  
Seeing he was starting to relent a little, obviously very keen on keeping Bob, Logan peeled a wad of bills out of his wallet and wrote his phone number down on a notebook from his glove compartment. "If you have any problems, you let me know," he made the boy promise with a nod.  
  
"Okay," said Riley with a smile, calling to Bob, who seemed more than happy to follow him, even though he didn't wear glasses.  
  
"What d'you want for dinner?" asked Max to Logan, resting her hands on his open window.  
  
He shrugged, "Whatever you can find."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"You want some money?" he asked her.  
  
"I got it covered," she smiled at him.  
  
He watched her walk away to the other side of the road with Zack. In front of him he could still see the figures of Riley and Bob heading down the road.  
  
There weren't many streetlights in Morristown, anyway, but at the end of town they were almost non-existent.  
  
Logan settled down for a long wait in the dark. He couldn't imagine Max and Zack being back too quickly with the crowds of men everywhere.  
  
It had been a long day, and a short night and as so often happens once you eventually stop, he found his eyelids growing heavy.  
  
Tilting his seat back a little, he thought he'd take advantage of the quiet.  
  
Logan woke, sometime later, from a surprisingly sound sleep, hearing a noise at his door.  
  
Not really wanting to be caught napping, he opened his eyes quickly, just as his door was opened, but not by Max.  
  
Nor was it Zack.  
  
Unfortunately it was the one man in Morristown Logan 'didn't' want to meet.  
  
Even less desirable was the same individual with a gun in his hand.  
  
All vestige of sleep vanished very quickly.  
  
"Twice in two days," he muttered to himself.  
  
"Get out of the car," the man growled.  
  
Logan thought wildly. 'How long had it been since Max and Zack had left?' With the car turned off, it was no longer displaying the time. All around him were dark, unused buildings. There was virtually no one this end of town.  
  
His wheelchair was still in the back.  
  
"Can't do," he said with an apologetic smile. His mother had always taught him to be polite.  
  
The man's eyes narrowed, realizing what he was getting at. "How do you get out then?" he asked him suspiciously.  
  
"If it's in the back, someone has to get it for me."  
  
His eyes took in the hand controls, and Logan could see his rather slow brain slowly ticking over.  
  
"In that case, maybe I'll just get the information I need from you right now."  
  
Logan didn't think this was such a great idea. He was even more convinced it wasn't a great idea when the man reached over and, with his gun in one hand, grabbed him at the throat by his sweater with the other. He sighed resignedly - his jaw still hadn't recovered from last night!  
  
Tensing in readiness for the blow, he was surprised when it didn't come and felt the hand at his throat being pulled away, the ugly face at his open door replaced by a far more attractive one.  
  
Max had pulled the lumberjack away, and he'd fallen into the hands of Zack who took him out in two, hard blows. The man dropped like the trees he felled.  
  
"Timber," ground out Max with satisfaction.  
  
Grabbing his jacket, Logan passed it to Max saying, "Get his gun and wrap it in this, we'll get his prints from it. See if we can I.D. him."  
  
He then returned his seat to the normal position and started the car.  
  
Doing as he said, Max and Zack then quickly jumped in the car, just closing their doors as Logan pulled away.  
  
"That's it," stated Max. "We're outta here."  
  
Logan looked at her.  
  
"We've done all we can here, right?"  
  
Logan nodded.  
  
"Then I say we leave here tonight, or I'm never gonna be able to keep you in one piece long enough to cook my chicken."  
  
TBC 


	10. Home

Chapter 10  
  
They drove straight back to the cabin, only staying long enough to quickly eat their takeout sandwiches with a hot drink, pack up their things, and leave.  
  
Logan called Bling to check in and tell him they were on their way home, but the trainer informed him that, although the phone had been running hot, there didn't appear to be any concrete leads to work on.  
  
Max looked at her chicken longingly as she wrapped it in plastic wrap before putting it in the car.  
  
"You'd better not go 'off' before Logan has a chance to cook you," she threatened it.  
  
As Logan was zipping up his bag he became aware of a tall, silent figure standing at the bedroom door. With a resigned look, he spun his chair around to face him. From experience, heart to heart talks with Zack were fairly one-sided affairs.  
  
"So, I guess you're gonna continue this investigation when you get back to Seattle."  
  
Looking at him, Logan replied evenly, "Guess so."  
  
"Are you gonna insist on involving Max in all this?"  
  
'Here we go,' thought Logan. Aloud he said, "She's a big girl, Zack. She does what she wants."  
  
Swinging back to the bed, he grabbed his bag and dumped it in his lap, then swung back to Zack, hands on the wheels in a gesture of readiness to leave the room.  
  
Refusing to take the hint, Zack continued to steadily regard him.  
  
Logan leaned back, annoyed he had to look up at him.  
  
"You've got a strange way of showing you care about her," Zack stated belligerently.  
  
"I don't think that's any of your business," said Logan, speaking slowly as if he was having a hard time holding on to his temper.  
  
Zack looked at him for a moment, then his words shot out as an accusation, "She's willing to risk 'everything' ...for you," he ground out.  
  
Abruptly he left the room.  
  
Logan stared after him, not entirely sure what to make of that last comment.  
  
"You got ...everything?" Max finished awkwardly as she almost bumped into Zack as he stalked away.  
  
Catching Logan's slightly stunned look, she winced inwardly, being very sure that 'she' had been the topic of conversation and having a good idea of what Zack may have been saying.  
  
Casting a fleeting look at Logan, and feeling herself redden, her words stumbling out, she said quickly, "You want me to check under the bed? You don't wanna get back and find you've lost a sock."  
  
Logan watched slightly bemused as she suddenly got down on all fours and did a whirlwind check. "Nope, nothing there," she finished brightly. Then grabbing his bag from his lap before he had a chance to say anything, she rushed out saying as she went, "I'll just take this to the car."  
  
Zack was at the car when she got there and she was just about to open her mouth and blast him when Logan came out, so instead she had to content herself with giving him a fiery look.  
  
*************************************  
  
On reaching the main street, Max fished in her pocket to find the key to return it to the drugstore.  
  
"I'll take it in," offered Zack.  
  
Still annoyed with Zack but not willing to openly confront him with her suspicions, she replied unsmilingly, "I got it."  
  
"If you like, but I'm getting out here anyway."  
  
Max frowned at him. "We weren't planning to stop here. It's a long drive back to Seattle."  
  
"This is where I leave the circus," Zack said unemotionally.  
  
Max looked at him in surprise. "You're not comin' with us?"  
  
"I did what I said I'd do. You've got enough leads to go on."  
  
Finding a park near the drugstore, Logan tried not to be too disappointed.  
  
Max had mixed emotions. "Are you sure about this? You don't have a lift."  
  
"Plenty of logging trucks up and down these roads. I'll hitch a ride, same way I got to Seattle."  
  
Taking his bag from the back, he got out of the car and walked up to Logan's now open window.  
  
His intense blue eyes bore into Logan's green ones. Logan returned the gaze unflinchingly.  
  
Finally, his eyes darting towards Max as if he really wanted to say something else, he simply said, "Bye."  
  
"Thanks for your help, Zack," returned Logan, in an effort to be polite, and probably somewhere deep down, quite thankful to the X5 for giving him this lead.  
  
Max got out and went round to him. She held his gaze for a moment, then put out her arms and gave him a brief hug.  
  
She gave him a small smile. "We'll be seein ya,"  
  
He looked at her searchingly, and then simply said, "Take care."  
  
*********************************  
  
Max and Logan drove in silence for a while.  
  
Max, as always, was a little confused now that Zack had left. She always looked forward to seeing him, but found life became very complicated when he was around. She always felt he expected something more of her than what she was able to give.  
  
She looked across at Logan.  
  
For all his complexities, it was like returning to a safe harbour.  
  
****************************************  
  
It was good to walk back into Logan's apartment, thought Max, as they came in, appreciating the familiar smell and subdued lighting, and even she noticed how warm it was.  
  
She dumped her bags down on one of the kitchen counters, and then walked through to Logan's study to see what he was doing.  
  
He'd gone straight to his computer, and was now intently regarding the screen.  
  
"Max, turn the TV on," he said suddenly, spinning around in his chair.  
  
As the screen came to life, a voice could be heard saying:  
  
"....Antonio Rizzo was gunned down in a drive-by shooting outside his popular restaurant "Antonio's." On the scene is our crime reporter, Melody Banks."  
  
Max listened in cold anger as Melody Banks, standing across the street from the yet to be removed bullet-riddled body of Antonio Rizzo, told Seattle that her informant had advised her that once again this was the work of Eyes Only who had denounced Rizzo in a cable hack only 2 days ago. "It may well be that Antonio Rizzo was guilty of the heinous crimes Eyes Only had revealed, but it would appear that, while purporting to believe in justice and an honest legal system, the latest actions of Eyes Only have made a mockery of all he supposedly believes."  
  
"Switch it off," said Logan harshly.  
  
"Logan, you know this is crap," Max reminded him.  
  
He looked up at her. "I signed his death warrant when I did that cable hack."  
  
"You didn't know!" she stated vehemently.  
  
"Well, we'll see if that makes his wife and kids feel any better," replied Logan sarcastically.  
  
"He signed his own death warrant when he chose to be a total sleaze ball. You had nothing to do with that!"  
  
"Well maybe you and I know that, but most of Seattle thinks that Eyes Only is responsible," he snapped back.  
  
Looking at him steadily she promised him, "Logan, we're gonna sort this bitch out." Logan ran a hand through his hair, still staring at the blank screen.  
  
After a moment he said, "I wonder what Melody's angle is in all this?"  
  
Max looked at him, confused.  
  
"Melody Banks. She's the one who's running with this whole Eyes Only thing."  
  
Max said with relish, "Maybe I could meet her and help to straighten her microphone out a little."  
  
Logan threw her a look.  
  
"I wouldn't have thought Mel would play a game like this," he said thoughtfully.  
  
"Mel?" asked Max sweetly.  
  
"She's always played it straight," he continued, missing the note to her voice.  
  
"Is she the blonde haired one with the 'Barbie' hair?"  
  
"Yeah," answered Logan, barely aware of her words.  
  
"Where's Ken?"  
  
Logan looked at her in surprise, "She's not married."  
  
"So, you two friends?"  
  
Unlocking his brakes, and going to his desk, he answered, "We go way back." He grabbed a videotape from his desk then tossed it over to Max, who was still near the TV. "Put this in will you?" He then added, "You may remember her from Bennett's wedding."  
  
Max looked at him in surprise, and then tossed him the remote for the VCR.  
  
"She's kept in touch with Bennett more these last few years. I think she's the one who introduced him to Marianne."  
  
Max shook her head. She'd been too occupied that night with Normal's mess and a certain blonde named Daphne. What was it with Logan and blondes, anyway?  
  
They watched some of the reports that Bling had recorded, all featuring Melody Banks, who assured the viewing public that an undisclosed source had revealed to her irrefutable evidence that Eyes Only was behind the slaying of the Marconi gang, and even hinted that he may have been responsible for earlier deaths as well.  
  
Max made a face.  
  
"So what's her dealio with this whole 'Eyes Only Avenger of Death' thing? Hasn't she got a life?" Max looked like she'd like to give her the smack down.  
  
"Someone's feeding her a line."  
  
"A lotta people want to take Eyes Only down," Max reminded him, with a quick look at his profile.  
  
"Yeah," he drawled in a matter of fact tone, and then he added thoughtfully, "I wonder who's got Mel to do their dirty work?"  
  
Looking as if an idea had just come to him, he pushed back to his desk and took out a pile of letters from his drawer. Putting them on his lap, he flipped through them until he came to one that was unmistakably an invitation.  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"An invitation to Bennett and Marianne's housewarming tomorrow night. I'm thinking there's a good chance Melody may be there."  
  
"You were planning on going?" asked Max sceptically.  
  
"Well, no," he admitted, "but I might call Bennett tomorrow ..."  
  
"Today," Max interrupted him.  
  
Continuing, with a frown at her, "and find out if Melody's gonna be there."  
  
He stopped for a moment, unconsciously tapping the stiff, guilt-edged invitation on his knee. Max watched him, for his sake wishing he could feel the sharp edge of the invitation on his leg. The morning by the bay seemed a lifetime ago now.  
  
Breaking herself from those thoughts, she smiled down at him, "I can see it's gonna be a casual affair."  
  
Looking down at the invitation in his hands, he gave a wry smile. "Ah yes, but then I'm sure Uncle Jonas has had a hand in it. It smacks of his pretension."  
  
"So, what are your plans now, besides sleep?" she added with a hint.  
  
"I've been thinking about that," he admitted.  
  
She waited for him to continue.  
  
"I've got two avenues to work on. Firstly, follow up on Carmichael Logging; someone's put big money into this training camp thing."  
  
"Secondly?"  
  
Putting the letters away as he spoke, he said, "Secondly, finding out if there's a connection between the facts and the rumours."  
  
"In other words, what's the connection between Melody Banks and the person behind the killings?"  
  
"If any," added Logan with a yawn.  
  
"You won't be doin' anything if you don't get some sleep."  
  
Logan looked up at her, glad to have her company.  
  
Something of his thoughts must have reflected in his face because Max suddenly smiled at him, and to his surprise he found he was smiling already.  
  
"You wanna stay here tonight - or what's left of it?" he amended.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
Then a look of horror crossed her face. "I gotta put my chicken in the fridge."  
  
******************************************  
  
"Hey Max," greeted Bling the next morning, as he entered the apartment and found her in the kitchen making some breakfast.  
  
"Logan up and about?" he asked, looking around as he spoke.  
  
"He's in the shower," replied Max, between mouthfuls of toast.  
  
"How's he doing?" he asked her seriously.  
  
"'He's doin' 'fine'," said Logan himself, coming into the room.  
  
"You had us worried there," Bling continued, completely missing the 'NO' Max was mouthing at him. "Hypothermia can be a dangerous thing."  
  
Logan swung around to Max just in time to see her complete the classic hand signal across her throat that Bling missed, anyway.  
  
"What happened to 'my lips are sealed?'" accused Logan, looking up at her.  
  
"Well, that was after I'd already called," she had to admit.  
  
She could see he was really annoyed.  
  
Her own temper flaring, she snapped at him, "Well what was I supposed to do? 'You' weren't making any sense! I had to call Bling to find out what to do!"  
  
Without another word, he headed to his computer.  
  
Bling raised his eyebrows at Max and gave her an apologetic look.  
  
"It's okay," she mouthed to him, looking at her toast with disinterest now.  
  
Sometime later, she walked up and stood behind Logan. "So, you're not talkin' to me now?"  
  
His hand paused for a moment on the keyboard, then he unlocked his brakes and swung around to her, looking slightly self-conscious. Avoiding her steady gaze he said, "Sorry." Then narrowing his eyes a little, he added after a pause, "I don't even know why I made such a big deal about it."  
  
"You had me really worried that night at the cabin, Logan. I didn't know what to do," she told him honestly.  
  
Looking at him, she wondered for the hundredth time why he had to lock up all his feelings and keep everything to himself.  
  
Unexpectedly, he admitted to her with his quirky smile, "I didn't want a lecture from Bling."  
  
She smiled at that.  
  
"Does that mean you'll still cook the chicken tonight?"  
  
********************************************  
  
Max, thankful it was the weekend, went home to touch base with Original Cindy, wondering what she'd say when she learnt she'd been away with both Logan 'and' Zack.  
  
Logan meanwhile, hacked into the computers of Carmichael Logging, which in itself was a fairly routine procedure for him, but to uncover the information within their files was another thing entirely. If the information was there, it was very well hidden.  
  
He'd called Bennett earlier, but his cousin hadn't been home, and he was still hoping to hear from him about whether Melody would be at the party.  
  
The morning flew by quickly as he processed the information that had come in while he was away, systematically cross-checking any details. He could feel his frustration growing that no one had a viable lead as to the whereabouts of the vigilante team in Seattle itself. That left him doing another check on Carmichael Logging, looking into any of their holdings in Seattle.  
  
Logan worked solidly with Bling on his reps after lunch. He was halfway through his session when Max came back, keen to find if he'd got anywhere with his investigations.  
  
"Nope," he answered her flatly, as he pumped the weight in his right hand.  
  
As Max stood there watching him, the phone rang.  
  
"Don't worry, the answering machine'll pick it up," Logan told her, wiping his face with a towel, and preparing to lift the weight with his left hand.  
  
They could both hear a hollow voice echoing through the apartment, leaving a message on the machine: "Hi Logan, it's Bennett here. I checked with Marianne and she assured me Melody would be at the party tonight, especially if you were going to be there because," and here he started to laugh, "Marianne says she's always had 'the hots' for you. See you tonight."  
  
Logan gave Max a small, quick, embarrassed smile. "Ah... Bennett's got a ... real weird sense of humour."  
  
"'The Hots'?" asked Max slowly, savouring every word. Is that Cale talk for, "I wanna be friends?"  
  
Logan grinned at her, "Something like that. So," he added, "D'you wanna go to a housewarming?"  
  
TBC 


	11. Melody

Thank you once again for reading and reviewing!  
  
My thanks to Alaidh, once more, for all her work.  
  
A/N: My apologies to Bob, who has kindly reviewed this work, for the dog's name!!! I named the dog without thinking - sorry!! At least he was a very clever dog!!  
  
Chapter 11  
  
"Logan, forget it," Max stated, hands on hips, watching Logan as he transferred to his wheelchair from the training table, as Bling held it steady for him.  
  
"Consider it a business expense," he urged her, lifting his legs on to the footrest, while Bling stowed the weights in place.  
  
"I got it covered," she insisted, looking very uncomfortable with the way the conversation was going.  
  
"Max." He said her name deliberately, looking at her seriously for a moment before putting his glasses on.  
  
"I could leave you to be thrown to the lions all by yourself," she threatened.  
  
He smiled knowingly. "But you wouldn't."  
  
"Damn straight I would."  
  
He still smiled, and it infuriated her that he was particularly attractive when he looked like that.  
  
"Logan, my mind's made up," she insisted, forcing herself to look away. "Look at the paintings, the floor, look anywhere!" she told herself.  
  
"What about your friend?" he asked her, wheeling through to the kitchen, and turning the faucet on for a drink of water.  
  
She looked at him, confused. "You spacin' again?" she demanded.  
  
He looked up at her. "I mean the one in my fridge," he said innocently.  
  
Max looked at him with a sudden inkling of where he was going with this.  
  
"Logan Cale," she threatened.  
  
"What?" he asked, surprised. "I'm just suggesting a business proposition."  
  
"Stinks to me like blackmail!" she retorted.  
  
"I know the reputation of Eyes Only is held in disrepute by some given the current situation, but I'm deeply hurt to think that you would condone such libelous statements."  
  
"Cut the crap. What do I need to do to get my chicken?" she asked dangerously.  
  
"You simply have to chose a dress for the cocktail party tonight, and phone me when you've found the right one, and I'll have it charged to my account."  
  
He saw the stubborn look on her face.  
  
"Max," he said, trying a different tack. "It's hardly fair for me to ask you to a fancy cocktail party for an Eyes Only mission, and not reimburse you the cost of a dress. And," he added, taking a quick gulp of water, "if you don't agree to my demands, I'll place a ban on the cooking of all chickens in my kitchen."  
  
"Or I simply kick your ass," she reasoned.  
  
"You could of course," he agreed, but playing his trump he said, "but then you'd never get the succulent taste of fresh chicken basted with white wine with a stuffing of garlic and herbs..."  
  
He had her, and she knew it.  
  
If only he hadn't smiled that smile, she was sure she could have held out.  
  
*************************************  
  
"Logan, this chicken is a masterpiece," said Max.  
  
"So is the wearer of the dress," thought Logan.  
  
Not being entirely sure of what to wear to a 'cocktail party', Logan had suggested which shops she should go into, tell them the function she required a dress for, and they would be able to advise her.  
  
Apparently a 'Cale' function was high enough on the social scale to have shop assistants falling over themselves to help her.  
  
The result was nothing short of spectacular.  
  
She had chosen a very simple black cocktail dress that clung to her curves as if she'd been poured into it.  
  
Getting changed at Logan's because they were going to eat the long awaited chicken for dinner, and she could hardly ride her ninja dressed as she was, Max was more than pleased with herself when she saw her reflection in the mirror in the guest room.  
  
However, her pleasure doubled when she saw the admiring smile she received from Logan when she walked out.  
  
"Perhaps there should be more of these Eyes Only type missions," he suggested.  
  
"I'll wait till I taste the chicken before I pass judgement," Max answered, not sure she was quite ready to forgive him.  
  
Logan had outdone himself with the chicken, having felt a reasonable amount of pressure to come up with something spectacular considering the situation.  
  
Max savoured every mouthful, "Mmmm." With a sigh of contentment, she put her fork down, then not-so-subtly eyed his plate.  
  
"You know, I would have been probably perfect if they'd only thought to add the genes of the best chef in America," Max mused out loud. "You gonna eat that bit?" she finally asked, unable to bear seeing him poke around at the food on his plate a minute longer.  
  
"Here, it's all yours," said Logan, pushing it across to her.  
  
She looked at him as he studied the glass of wine in his hand.  
  
"I can see you're really looking forward to the latest Cale family gathering."  
  
"Oh I'm sure it will be an enlightening evening. I so hate not knowing that I shouldn't be wearing puce, or what I should have invested in but didn't, and why John Smith's wife is sleeping with her husband's partner and now they've both fled the country after embezzling his fortune," he finished bitingly.  
  
She thought his unease was due to more than that, but instead said admiringly, "Wow, can't wait for the sequel."  
  
He looked across at her, smiling suddenly.  
  
"Before anyone else beats me to it, I want to be the first to tell you how beautiful you look."  
  
Max smiled self-consciously, then jumped up saying, "We'd better get goin'."  
  
**********************************  
  
Bennett and Marianne's new house was in the most affluent part of Seattle. Private guards patrolled the perimeter of the estate twenty-four hours a day to keep out the unwanted riff raff and protect their properties.  
  
It appeared if you wanted to build a house in this area it had to be at least two storeys high, and have a minimum of three garages. The look was generally old-world genteel, with plenty of columns and attic windows, and gardens with grass worthy of a golfing green.  
  
"Just a family affair?" queried Max with sarcasm, as they took in the parked cars lining the street in every direction.  
  
Logan made a face, pulling into the circular driveway and parking out front as Bennett had called and arranged for him to do.  
  
Max reflected that Logan probably delighted in the fact that unlike the pristine condition of the other cars, innumerable layers of dirt covered the blue paintwork of the Aztek.  
  
Waiting for Logan to get out, Max couldn't help but be impressed by the grandeur of the house, reflecting that this could have been the type of life Logan could have lead if he'd chosen.  
  
"Logan!" called Bennett, coming forward with outstretched hand to greet them as they came in the door.  
  
"Bennett, you remember Max?"  
  
"Of course," Bennett replied with a smile.  
  
Logan looked around at the crowded rooms filled with men in tailor made suits and women in designer dresses. There was no sign of the pulse for these people.  
  
"A small affair?" he asked Bennett, eyebrows raised.  
  
"Well, that's what Marianne and I intended, but Dad thought this was a perfect opportunity to do some 'networking'." He looked around in some disgust. "It's turned into a 'who's who' of everyone in Seattle. I wouldn't be surprised if Eyes Only himself were here somewhere!!" he laughed. "Although he's hardly 'de rigueur' on people's invitation lists at the moment though, is he?" he finished conversationally.  
  
Max felt her smile plastered on her face, and stole a quick look at Logan to see his reaction, but he'd simply slipped into his 'party persona' as she had seen him do at the wedding, where, for the sake of good manners and good breeding, you simply smiled and laughed benignly at any comment so as not to give offence. She'd been surprised at Bennett's wedding to see how adept he'd been at it.  
  
Catching her eye, he gave her one of his wide grins, but was saved from having to remark to Bennett's comments when a young man walked up to them and held his hand out to Logan, briefly saying 'Hello' but obviously only intent on speaking to Max.  
  
"I'm Logan's cousin Martin. I remember you from the wedding," Then after a pause he added, "Max," boldly staring into her eyes as he did so.  
  
"It's typical of Logan," he continued, not taking his eyes from her face, "he doesn't even bother to shave, and he turns up with the most beautiful girl at the party."  
  
Max looked at a younger version of Bennett, although instinctively she could tell he didn't have Bennett's kind nature, but perhaps followed more in his father's footsteps. She gave him one of her polite, half- smiles. She hadn't liked the slightly sneering note in his voice when he'd referred to Logan.  
  
"Come through and I'll show you where the drinks and refreshment are," Martin said, putting a hand to her back and pulling her slightly in the direction he intended her to go as if assuming she had said 'yes'.  
  
Max felt herself stiffen instinctively, and she looked to Logan to see what he wanted her to do. She knew what she would 'like' to do.  
  
"That's great Martin," said Logan easily, "I'll just be through here," he said to Max, indicating the room to the right of the spacious tiled entrance where they now spoke.  
  
"Fine," she agreed a little tightly.  
  
Bennett wandered away and Logan wheeled through to the room he'd indicated. The ground floor was open-planned, each room leading onto the next, with a minimum amount of walls, making it ideal for a party.  
  
Stopping here and there to greet people who said hello to him, Logan looked around to see if he could see Melody anywhere, his one aim being to speak to her and leave, but he hadn't reckoned on the amount of people in the room and he had no hope from his wheelchair of finding anyone unless they were eight feet tall or standing right in front of him. He had sent Max off with Martin thinking that Melody would probably speak more openly to him if he were by himself.  
  
"Logan."  
  
"Gerard." He said, turning to find himself baled up by an old boyhood friend who seemed intent on reliving old times, starting in great detail about the time they'd taken Jonas's brand new car for a joy ride. Logan could only be pleased Max wasn't around to hear about his misspent youth.  
  
************************************  
  
Max had been temporarily abandoned by Martin, who'd been asked by his mother to find Bennett for her, as they needed some more cases of champagne.  
  
He had unwillingly left Max's side, with the promise he'd be back soon.  
  
Max breathed a sigh of relief, murmuring, "Don't rush," and rehearsed a few lines she'd let loose on Logan when she caught up with him.  
  
Sipping her champagne, she casually wandered away from the bar to find Logan, when her ears picked up someone saying the word 'Logan'. Suddenly very attentive, she moved over to the wall as if admiring a huge painting.  
  
With her sensitive hearing she was able to be far enough away from those talking without them realizing she was blatantly eavesdropping.  
  
"So, what does he do, Jonas?"  
  
She heard Logan's uncle laugh derisively, "Very little I'd say, other than living off Cale money."  
  
It was easy to discern one of the speakers to be Logan's Uncle Jonas, but the other man she didn't recognize.  
  
"I thought I'd heard somewhere he was a journalist?"  
  
Jonas snorted. "I'd hardly call him a journalist. More like a muck- raker, touting his left-wing anarchy. He doesn't usually turn up at this sort of affair - he counts himself a bit above the rest of us. I'm surprised to see him here tonight."  
  
From her vantage point, she could see the other man discreetly looking around the room.  
  
"You haven't told me Mac, why all the interest in my nephew?" Jonas asked the other man shrewdly.  
  
"His name came across my desk the other day. I recognized the surname, thought I'd check him out," he finished easily.  
  
"Well you can't miss him. He's the only one here in a wheelchair."  
  
Max could see the other man's look of surprise.  
  
"Got himself involved in some shooting or other about eight months back, ended up a paraplegic."  
  
His total lack of feeling disgusted Max . "Is the painting that bad?" asked Martin Cale, returning at that moment.  
  
Forcing her features into something resembling a smile she said, "Could you get me another drink?"  
  
Slightly disappointed, but willing to oblige the goddess in black, Martin hurried off to do her bidding.  
  
Turning her attention back to Jonas and 'Mac', Max was disappointed to find they'd moved onto discussing something else.  
  
Feeling vaguely uneasy about what she'd just heard, she looked around for Logan, slowly making her way to the other room through all the people, barely aware of the many admiring glances that came her way.  
  
Finally, she spied Logan across the room, talking to an attractive brunette. He laughed suddenly at something she said and Max paused and looked at him admiringly for a moment.  
  
He was wearing a black suit as the majority of all the other men in the room were wearing, but very few would have been able to get away with the hair that he'd simply towel dried and thought no more of, and his slightly, scruffy unshaven look.  
  
"He's always been incredibly sexy," said a voice at her elbow.  
  
Startled, and annoyed to find a betraying flush of red covering her cheeks, Max turned to face Melody Banks.  
  
"So, are you and Logan an item? I remember seeing you at Bennett and Marianne's wedding."  
  
"We're just friends," replied Max, a hint of steel to her voice. Max came to the conclusion that, whereas before she'd simply disliked Melody Banks, like the small beginnings of a forest fire, it had now fanned to a full- grown hatred.  
  
"Right," the blonde drawled slowly, perfectly shaped brows rising in unison.  
  
"Oh well, my timing's always been off when it came to Logan Cale," she said regretfully, no sign of her reporter persona in sight. "First Daphne, then Val, and I can't remember all the ones in between, and now you," she finished sweetly, turning to Max.  
  
"And to think with that long list you couldn't even get a foot in the door," wondered Max out loud.  
  
Catching sight of Logan coming towards them, Max was pleased to see a flash of fire in the other girl's eyes.  
  
Unexpectedly, Martin Cale returned at that moment. "Here you are," he remarked, coming up to her. "Thought I'd lost you." His eyes narrowed slightly as he took in the rigid stances of the two women, and the man they both now watched approaching.  
  
A smart intuitive man in business, so too was he in personal matters. "I think I see which way the wind is blowing here," he commented, the faintest touch of bitterness to his words. He gave Max her drink, acknowledged Melody with a nod, then turned to Logan. "It's almost exactly like old times," he remarked, his focus resting briefly on Logan's wheelchair before he turned away.  
  
Max couldn't believe that Logan hadn't understood the barbed comment, but he showed no sign of doing so, merely smiling at Melody.  
  
"Mel, it's been a long time."  
  
"You're looking well, Logan."  
  
The word 'rattlesnake' came strongly to Max's mind.  
  
There were so many people going back and forth, that they had to wait for someone to pass before they could resume their conversation.  
  
"Let's find somewhere quieter," said Melody, indicating for them to follow her.  
  
Melody led them to a small study off the main entrance. It was refreshingly cool and quiet in there, away from the endless hum of conversation and music in the other rooms.  
  
"You don't have a drink, Logan," admonished Melody.  
  
"I'm fine, thanks," he replied.  
  
"The Logan Cale I knew always had a drink in his hand," she insisted.  
  
"The Logan Cale you knew didn't need two hands to push a wheelchair," he replied.  
  
Max, detecting a note in his voice that told her he had indeed understood his cousin's meaning, thought she'd take great pleasure in kicking Martin's ass.  
  
Melody laughed to cover her confusion.  
  
Not having meant to make her feel uncomfortable, Logan said smoothly, "So, you're the one with story of the year."  
  
"Story of the century," she contradicted dryly, with a hint of pride.  
  
"You must be pretty damn sure of your source," Logan said admiringly.  
  
She almost completely covered her hesitation.  
  
"You are sure of your source?" pressed Logan, leaning forward slightly.  
  
"What journalist ever is," she answered evasively.  
  
Logan shot a look at Max.  
  
"So just what has Eyes Only done to piss you off so badly?" asked Max bluntly, not quite able to keep the sneer out of her voice.  
  
"I'm a journalist. I report what makes news."  
  
"The Melody Banks I knew reported the truth," said Logan, reiterating her earlier remark.  
  
"Yeah, well nothing's the same any more, is it Logan?" sneered Melody, downing her drink in one gulp then looking around wildly as if there'd be another one somewhere close at hand.  
  
Max thought she looked like someone whose conscience was completely whacked.  
  
"The pulse hit and all the old rules changed, didn't you know that?" She got up and restlessly walked to the window.  
  
Logan wheeled over to her. "The rules haven't changed, just the people," he told her.  
  
"You on another crusade Logan - save Eyes Only? He's had his day," she finished flatly. "Give it another few months and no one will even remember him."  
  
"What about all the good that Eyes Only has done. Do you want to see that destroyed for the sake of a headline?"  
  
"What do you care Logan?"  
  
A little more temperately, Logan replied, "I admire the work he's done. I'm just surprised that you'd run with a story like this without irrefutable evidence."  
  
Looking at her, Logan wondered how hard to press without exposing his own interest.  
  
"I need another drink," said Melody, walking past Logan without looking at him, and heading for the door, where she turned back to him saying, "It's just a job Logan, you know?" and left the room.  
  
"It's just a job Logan," mimicked Max viciously in a deep whisper, mindful of where they were. "Gimme some time alone with her," Max pleaded, "an' I'll show her what a real 'job' is."  
  
Logan gave her a look that told her what he thought of that idea.  
  
"I could put an end to this crap," Max insisted.  
  
"I'm not trying to pay truth to the rumours," he whispered back at her exasperatedly.  
  
"Have it your own way," she retorted. "I'm headin' to the buffet. You want some food?"  
  
"In a minute," he said, gazing into the distance.  
  
"You want me to wait?" she asked with a gentler note.  
  
He looked up at her, but obviously his thoughts were still miles away.  
  
"I'll bring you back some cake," said Max, making up his mind for him.  
  
***********************************  
  
Waiting patiently among the other guests, Max finally made it to the heavily laden tables, selecting an assortment of delicacies for them to try.  
  
Heading back to Logan, she was disturbed to find him no longer in the study but back in the entrance area in conversation with Uncle Jonas and the man called 'Mac'.  
  
Grimacing, she realized that, with all the fuss with Melody, she'd hadn't had a chance to tell Logan about the conversation she'd overheard. She didn't know why, but she suddenly felt it was very important to get him away from that man.  
  
At that moment Melody, accompanied by Bennett and Marianne and a few others who were obviously preparing to go, entered the area and started saying their 'goodbyes'.  
  
"I've got us a whole bottle of French Champagne to have to ourselves," said a voice at Max's elbow.  
  
Frowning slightly, she looked into the face of Martin Cale.  
  
Max thought it looked like he'd had quite a bit to drink in the short while since they'd seen him.  
  
"Will you share it with me?" he whispered in her ear.  
  
His movements had attracted Logan's attention.  
  
Max, with the two plates of food in her hands, gave Logan a meaningful look that said, "Don't interfere."  
  
"I'm just taking this food over there to Logan," she excused herself.  
  
"Let him get his own food," Martin insisted, putting an arm around her waist.  
  
Desperate for once to not make a scene, but hampered by the plates of food in her hands, Max tried to politely decline, very aware of Logan's eyes in her direction.  
  
Thankfully, Martin let go in order to open the champagne, which he did with a great flourish and managed to spray everyone in the area with the expensive liquid.  
  
Logan, who had excused himself from Jonas and his friend, had been heading towards them and ended up with a face full of champagne.  
  
With an annoyed look he took off his glasses and grabbed a napkin from a nearby table to wipe them.  
  
Martin seemed to think the whole thing was hilarious, himself grabbing a napkin and proceeding to attempt to wipe the champagne from Max's breasts.  
  
Quickly transferring the two plates to one hand, Max was in the act of dissuading Martin from such an action when her glance took in two things.  
  
Firstly was Logan's intent expression, his glasses in his hands, obviously less than impressed by his cousin's actions.  
  
The second expression she witnessed was one that made her feel like she'd been kicked in the stomach.  
  
While everyone else had their eyes trained on Martin and his clumsy attempts to wipe the champagne, one person's eyes were trained on Logan, without his glasses, those expressive green eyes exposed to the world.  
  
In that instant, Max witnessed a flash of recognition and understanding in the blue eyes that made her genetically engineered heart thump heavily in her chest, and instilled within her a burning desire to get Logan out of there.  
  
Walking away from Martin in mid-wipe, she headed straight for Logan saying, "Here's your food." Leaning down slightly as she gave it to him, and very aware of Melody's scrutiny she said unobtrusively, but with vehemence, "Put your glasses on."  
  
His green eyes meeting hers with a slight frown, he did as she requested, taking the plate and at the same time saying quite naturally, "Thank you Max."  
  
Bennett was now ushering Melody out the door.  
  
Looking past Bennett as she turned to go, Melody's glance swept to Max, her blue eyes meeting the challenging stare of Max's brown eyes as she stood next to Logan.  
  
********************************************  
  
It was some time later before they were able to get away, and it had seemed like an eternity to Max.  
  
Every time the door opened, she looked up, half expecting sector police to come and arrest Logan and announce to the world that he was Eyes Only.  
  
Eventually she leaned down and said in his ear, "We gotta go."  
  
He looked up at her quizzically, knowing that something bothered her, but not quite sure what.  
  
With Melody gone, he had no particular desire to stay longer anyway, so he took his leave of the happy couple in their new home, and headed to the car.  
  
Max was so keen to get away, she didn't wait for him to stow his wheelchair himself, but as soon as he was in the car, she took it and stowed it in the back.  
  
"You wanna tell me what this is all about?" Logan asked her, as they headed back towards town.  
  
"She knows, Logan," Max whispered, her dark eyes wide with fear.  
  
Logan looked at her, wondering if she meant what he thought she did.  
  
"Melody. She knows you're Eyes Only, and I don't think we'll be able to buy her off with S'mores."  
  
TBC 


	12. Exposure

Thanks again for the encouraging reviews. You make the long hours at the computer worthwhile!!!!  
  
My special thanks to my beta Alaidh.  
  
Chapter 12  
  
Logan looked at her.  
  
For once he didn't know what to say.  
  
"Are you sure?" he finally asked her.  
  
Thinking back to what she saw in those moments, she said slowly, "You had your glasses off, looking at Martin. How can I explain it, you had your ... I don't know ... your 'Eyes Only" look, and that's when I saw her staring at you, like she knew."  
  
Max thought back to the episode with frustration. "I shoulda put the smack down on Martin earlier when I had the chance," she ground out.  
  
"I shoulda kept him away from you in the first place," added Logan. "You may have noticed he's quite a bit different than Bennett," he added dryly.  
  
"He doesn't seem to like 'you' much."  
  
"Well, he's had Jonas in his ear most of his adult life."  
  
'More mud,' thought Max with venom.  
  
She watched Logan as he drove, wondering what he was thinking.  
  
"Logan?"  
  
"I gotta talk to her," he said, as if answering a question in his own mind.  
  
"You gotta get out of Seattle," she told him abruptly.  
  
"I need to think this thing through, Max."  
  
"Logan, she could be talking to the police and nailing your ass to the wall right now!"  
  
"She's a friend," he insisted forcefully.  
  
"Yeah, well I think she's the kinda 'friend' who'd sell you to the highest bidder," Max replied scathingly.  
  
"If that's the case, she'll hardly be reporting me to the authorities if she means to make big money out of me," he answered her reasonably.  
  
"I don't like it, Logan. Surely you had a plan for something like this?"  
  
"Destroy the informant net," he told her succinctly.  
  
"And then you just wait around to be gunned down by someone pissed off with you for destroying their scam, or get carted off by the crooked legal system to rot in a jail, or if you're real lucky," and her voice rose with each fresh scenario, "you might mysteriously disappear on your way to your trial?" she suggested sarcastically.  
  
"My situation was a bit different, you might recall, when I started Eyes Only," he told her, trying to stay calm.  
  
"Well, you're whacked if you think I'm gonna stand around and wait for Barbie Girl to make you her ground-breaking news scoop."  
  
"Yeah, well I don't see there's an awful lot I can do about it, unless you want to slit her throat to silence her," he finished bitingly, driving into his apartment building's underground parking garage.  
  
"If it means saving you, then maybe I would!" she flung back, opening the door even though Logan hadn't quite stopped, angrily taking out his wheelchair then depositing it with a thump next to him.  
  
"Tell me why you want to save everyone else's ass, but you're too damned proud to save your own!"  
  
"Because," and his eyes blazed, "I won't save myself at the cost of someone else."  
  
Stopping suddenly, realizing they were hardly in a secure environment, he clamped his mouth shut, transferring to his chair and putting his feet on the footrest with a tense, angry manner.  
  
While waiting for him, Max's eyes scoured the area. She would no longer take anything for granted.  
  
Without another word, Logan pushed himself angrily towards the elevator, and they rode up in silence.  
  
"Mind if I take a shower?" Max asked him, as they entered the apartment.  
  
"Fine," he replied shortly.  
  
*********************************************  
  
Max felt the tension in her body slowly leave as she let the piping hot water cascade over her body.  
  
If only a shower could cure all the worries of the world, she thought, life would be a lot simpler.  
  
With a grim smile, she imagined herself washing Melody Banks down the drain.  
  
Melody Banks.  
  
At the thought of her name the tension in her body returned. To think that someone like her, with no scruples at all, should hold Logan's fate in her hands.  
  
The thought made her sick.  
  
Slipping into her jeans and sweater again, with her hair wrapped in a towel, she went in search of Logan.  
  
"I'm goin' to bed," he told her abruptly when she came out. "I guess you plan on stayin' the night."  
  
Max nodded silently.  
  
"Well, you know where everything is," he said without looking at her, and headed off towards his room.  
  
Max stood in the same position for some moments after he'd gone, her expression a mixture of worry and concern.  
  
Removing the towel from her head, she fluffed her hair out, then turned off most of the lights and lit some candles instead.  
  
She could hear the noise of Logan's shower, but after that, all was quiet, and she assumed he was asleep.  
  
It was nights like this she wished she could sleep, if only to escape the thoughts that kept hammering at her mind.  
  
Eventually she made herself a hot drink and raided Logan's kitchen cupboards for something to eat, hoping that would take her mind off the evening's events.  
  
With her feet up on the couch and a blanket thrown over her, Max had just taken the first bite of her sandwich when she heard a noise.  
  
"I couldn't sleep," said Logan with a wry smile, coming towards her.  
  
Max smiled back. "You wanna join me in a hot drink? I'm havin' tea."  
  
After a pause, Logan said, "Sure."  
  
Max brought the hot drink over to him where he sat in his chair near the couch.  
  
She watched him nurse the drink in his hands, gazing into it blankly as she sipped her own.  
  
"You prefer iced tea?" she tried.  
  
He looked up at her suddenly. "I'm sorry about before."  
  
"No big dealio," she quipped back. "I think I might have let fly with a few things I shouldn't have."  
  
"Is that an apology?" he asked her suspiciously.  
  
Max thought about it. "I don't know if I'd go that far."  
  
"It's funny," said Logan, eyes back on the tea, "I never even considered a scenario like this."  
  
With a short laugh, he continued, "If I thought about it at all, I thought I'd go down in a hail of bullets, or at the hands of someone like Gerhardt Bronck. There's a certain sweet irony to it that Eyes Only would be at the mercy of an old friend."  
  
"Sure, 'sweet'," echoed Max bitterly, not enjoying the topic of conversation. "So, just what sort of an 'old friend' is she?"  
  
"I don't really know," frowned Logan, taking a drink of the rapidly cooling tea.  
  
"I can make you another," suggested Max, cold tea having no appeal for her.  
  
"No, don't bother," replied Logan, putting the mug down on the table, unlocking his brakes, and heading for the window.  
  
Max twisted to face the other way to watch him, her arms on the back of the couch with her chin resting on them. In a perfect world, she reflected, she'd have some smart-ass comment that would instantly solve all his problems, and he wouldn't need to be searching the streets of Seattle for an answer.  
  
The sudden ringing of the phone made them both jump.  
  
With a quick look at Max, Logan wheeled over to pick it up.  
  
Irresistibly drawn, Max followed him, watching his face carefully to try and gauge who it might be.  
  
She didn't have to try too hard. His first word was, "Melody."  
  
Max began to relax a little as she read his body language. He leaned back in his chair as he spoke, his left hand resting on the wheel.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
That didn't sound too tense she thought.  
  
"Now?"  
  
Surprise. His eyes found Max.  
  
"Wait there. I'll send someone to meet you."  
  
At that, he hung up and spun around to face her.  
  
"So, she called to share a hot scoop with you?" asked Max helpfully.  
  
"She wants to 'meet' with me," Logan contradicted.  
  
"She wants to set you up," countered Max immediately.  
  
Logan sighed. "Are you gonna help me on this or not?"  
  
Max looked at him. "What do you want me to do?" she said almost sulkily.  
  
"I said I'd meet with her," he started to explain.  
  
"Not here!" Max said purposefully.  
  
"If I can finish..." he added exasperatedly.  
  
Seeing her more or less nod, he went on, "I'll have to meet her at one of the safe houses. She's possibly being followed. I need you to get her and bring her to me."  
  
"Now?" Seeing him nod, she said grimly, "Gimme the address, and which safe house you're gonna be at."  
  
Reaching across his desk, he scribbled two addresses down for her.  
  
"The first one's her address. The other one's a safe house we haven't used before."  
  
Max looked down at the two addresses he'd given her. "I should be able to meet you there in forty minutes," she told him.  
  
Taking her jacket from where it lay on one of the chairs, she headed out the door, only pausing long enough to say seriously, "I am not liking this, Logan. Watch your back, and stay outta sight 'til you see me. Got it?" she finished tersely, expecting an answer from him.  
  
"I hear you," he replied.  
  
Max frowned as she rode the elevator down. He hadn't exactly given her a 'yes'.  
  
*****************************************  
  
The apartment block where Melody Banks lived was a bit better than most. It would appear her salary kept her in a reasonable lifestyle.  
  
At three in the morning, the foyer was deserted. There was no twenty-four hour security here as there was at Logan's apartment.  
  
With a careful check, she headed up the elevator to the sixth floor, creeping with cat-like stealth until she stood outside apartment 608.  
  
Max listened carefully, then putting her hand to the door, she knocked quietly.  
  
It was obvious she had been expected, because the door opened a crack almost immediately.  
  
"I'm here to collect you," Max told the blonde reporter in a cold voice through the slight opening, the security chain still being in place.  
  
"I'll get my things," Melody said, about to walk away, but Max rasped out, "Open the door first."  
  
Melody looked hesitant at first, then let Max in.  
  
"Have you got L..." Logan, she was about to say, until Max put a hand over her mouth before she had a chance to finish the sentence.  
  
"Don't mention his name here ...ever!" she ground out.  
  
Melody Banks was not a timid woman, but even she quailed under that intense gaze.  
  
Max did a thorough check of the room, checking for bugs or anyone concealed there, but there was no evidence of either.  
  
"Get your things," Max told her.  
  
Melody raced through to the bedroom and picked up her bag and jacket.  
  
Without a word, Max took her bag and emptied it onto the bed, ignoring Melody's outraged comments, as she sifted through the contents carefully, satisfying herself that the bag was clean.  
  
Suddenly there was a noise at the door, and Max spun around, on the alert.  
  
There was definitely someone standing there, listening to their discussion.  
  
Melody, watching her with wide eyes, was amazed to see Max dart forward with incredible speed and grab whoever was in the corridor by the arm.  
  
"No, don't hurt him," Melody cried out, when she saw what Max's intentions were. "He's just a work colleague.  
  
Max had the man in a neck hold, one arm ready to squeeze the life out of him. Already he was gasping for air.  
  
"What?" snapped Max, not willing to let go.  
  
"He works with me. He's just coming by to make sure I'm okay." Melody said desperately.  
  
Max broke her hold on the man, and spun him round to look at Melody. "See, she's okay. Now get outta here, before I change my mind."  
  
The dark haired man looked at Melody. Mixed with fear, was confusion and concern for her.  
  
"I'm fine, Jack. I'm interviewing her for a story. She's a bit tense, that's all," explained Melody, with a coolness that even impressed Max.  
  
The man called 'Jack' looked from Melody to Max uncertainly.  
  
"I'm busy here, all right, Jack!" Melody said, with an edge to her voice.  
  
Jack held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow," he told Melody, with meaning.  
  
Once he'd gone, Max looked at the reporter. "We're wasting time. Get goin'."  
  
Without another word, Melody followed Max out the door, locking it behind her as she went.  
  
With her senses on the alert, Max made her way back to the Ninja, and curtly told Melody to get on.  
  
"Too bad. I didn't have time to go home and get you a helmet," said Max 'regretfully'. "Hope we don't slip on the wet road".  
  
Melody swung her leg over, hiding her trepidation by saying quickly, "Well, we'd both be in the same boat wouldn't we?" her eyes going to Max's own uncovered head.  
  
***************************************  
  
Revving hard, Max roared down the road and on to the safe house where Logan was waiting for her, her eyes constantly checking her rear-view mirror to look for a possible tail.  
  
The first thing Max saw when she arrived at the safe house, which was a small abandoned warehouse, was Logan's Aztek parked out front. She did a precautionary circuit of the block before finally stopping and telling Melody to get off.  
  
The warehouse was situated in a muddy street, busy with the teeming traffic of people who preferred to walk the streets at night, and huddle around makeshift fires because it was too cold and miserable to wait at home for the long night to end.  
  
A shaft of weak light limped into the night as a door in front of them opened outwards.  
  
Max, catching a glimpse of Logan, pushed Melody none too gently through the door.  
  
Logan frowned a little at her action, but wheeling back a little as they came in, simply said, "Mel. Sorry about the cloak an' dagger stuff."  
  
Melody looked at Logan as if she were seeing him for the first time.  
  
"You know why I'm here," she said tonelessly.  
  
"Not really," replied Logan, putting on his leather gloves as he spoke. The night air was freezing, and they could see their breath when they spoke. "Maybe you should tell me."  
  
Max went to the dirty window and looked out, quickly scanning the area, then walked back and stood near Logan, arms folded, where she could watch Melody.  
  
"She's good, Logan," Melody motioned towards Max. "A real asset in your line of work I'd imagine."  
  
"Why don't you cut to the chase and tell us what your game is," snapped Max.  
  
"I think you already know," Melody countered, plunging her hands deep into the pocket of her coat. Now that she was here, she felt curiously reluctant to put her thoughts into words.  
  
Suddenly, she looked at Logan and said abruptly, "'You' are Eyes Only."  
  
Logan felt like he'd been kicked in the face. He had been expecting her to say something like that, but it was a shock nonetheless.  
  
"You can deny it if you like Logan, but I've done the math." She considered him thoughtfully. "Everyone at the station wondered why Eyes Only dropped out of sight for those three months last year."  
  
"He had some 'adjusting' to do," replied Logan, talking about himself in the third person.  
  
Maybe that was the easiest way to separate himself from the memory of those weeks of physical and mental pain, but the shadow of it crossed his face nonetheless, which only gave Max another reason to hate her.  
  
"'Adjusting' has always been one of your talents," Melody answered.  
  
"The question is, what do you intend to do about it?" asked Max, the underlying threat in her words not missed on Melody. "Does Logan become your latest scoop?"  
  
Melody looked from one to the other. "I haven't thought that far ahead," she admitted.  
  
"Well you'd better start thinking, 'cause Logan's got a string o' people after him who want him dead, and the thought of you running around with this information in your pretty blonde head really doesn't do a whole lot for me," was Max's sarcastic reply.  
  
Logan shifted a little in his chair, and said quietly, "Max."  
  
She looked at him for a moment, then with a 'sweet' smile said to Melody, "Just act like I'm not here," stalking to the window to check the street outside.  
  
That left Logan and Melody staring at each other.  
  
"Mind if I smoke?" asked Melody, a token show of politeness as she took a pack of cigarettes and a gold lighter out of her coat pocket, walking over to lean against a huge pile of wooden pallets, left there from the previous owner.  
  
"So, you wanna tell me who paid you to shovel the dirt on Eyes Only in the first place?" asked Logan evenly.  
  
"You make me sound pretty cheap."  
  
"You're a journalist, you prostituted yourself," he accused her.  
  
"It's easy for you to be sanctimonious when you're not having to worry about whether your job will still be there the next day."  
  
He shrugged.  
  
"I got a call. They offered me money. A lot of money," she told him, stubbing out her barely smoked cigarette.  
  
"Who are 'they'?" asked Logan intently.  
  
Melody shook her head. "I never saw them. The money was deposited into my account."  
  
"You must be a real sound sleeper," put in Max, unable to help herself.  
  
Ignoring her comment, Logan asked in amazement, "Didn't you ever wonder who you were dealing with? What sort of people they were?"  
  
"Don't judge me by your standards, Logan," the blonde reporter replied cynically.  
  
Max turned back to the window, in time to see a shiny, black van driving slowly down the street, then stop across the way a few doors down.  
  
She didn't like the look of it.  
  
"Logan, can we get the Aztek in here?" she asked intently.  
  
Logan motioned to the heavy, double sliding doors that would have once been the access to a loading bay. "I have a key for those."  
  
"Give me your car-keys." Seeing Logan's enquiring look she said quietly, "It's possible we have visitors."  
  
Turning to Melody, Max said, "Do you think you can open those doors without breaking a nail?"  
  
"I grew up on a farm. I'm sure I can cope," she snapped back.  
  
Logan gave Max a worried look. "I don't like the idea of you goin' out there if there's trouble."  
  
"Yeah, well I don't like the idea of you getting in the car out in the open. Anyway, there's no trouble, 'yet'," she smiled at him. "Just make sure the doors are open for me."  
  
Without hesitation, Logan went over to the huge padlock and chain, slipping one of the keys into the lock, aware of Max slipping out the door to go to his car.  
  
The first key he tried wouldn't budge. Muttering a curse, he tried the next one.  
  
Melody meanwhile slid back the bolts at the top and bottom of the doors, in readiness to slide them open.  
  
The second key refused to move as well. Logan cast a quick look up at Melody. "Look out the window, and see what's happening."  
  
Careful to reveal as little of herself as possible, she stole a quick look. "Max is in your car, and the black van is still parked opposite, about two buildings down."  
  
Logan began to relax a little. Maybe they were jumping to conclusions.  
  
Just as the key slid smoothly into the lock and turned, Melody called out, "The van's reversing this way!"  
  
Seeing Logan had the door unlocked, Melody sprang forward and began dragging the heavy doors open, thankful they still slid relatively easily.  
  
Max brought the Aztek up to the doors, pulling into the warehouse as soon as Melody had the other side open.  
  
Jumping out, Max called to Logan and Melody, "Get in."  
  
Melody jumped in the back door, feeling the unbearable tension inside her as Max put the wheelchair in the back, and then jumped into the passenger seat next to Logan.  
  
"Let's go. I'll come back for my bike later."  
  
Logan thought Max must be worried if she was willing to leave her Ninja behind, as he reversed the car back out of the warehouse.  
  
The van was still reversing down the narrow road, when it became obvious the occupants had spotted the Aztek and decided they were interested in it.  
  
"Logan," said Max in a warning voice, as the van suddenly accelerated at a fast rate towards them, obviously trying to cut them off.  
  
Logan cut short his reverse, and partially swung the Aztek up on the sidewalk so as not to hit the approaching car.  
  
"Duck!" yelled Max suddenly as she saw the long, dark object sticking through the window of the other car. She winced slightly as she heard the unmistakable sound of bullets hitting metal.  
  
Logan accelerated up the narrow road, desperate to put as much distance between themselves and the van.  
  
Max leaned across and honked the horn as a warning to several people who weren't paying attention, and who nearly stepped out in front of the vehicle.  
  
Melody had completely ducked down behind the seat, her hands over her head.  
  
Doing several quick turns, Logan thought they'd lost them, only to be frustrated to have the van turn up behind them once more.  
  
Max suddenly turned to Melody. "Give me your bag."  
  
Wordlessly, Melody handed it to Max, who promptly opened her window just as an old man on a bike passed from the other direction, an empty plastic crate strapped to the back of his bike.  
  
Without hesitation, Max threw the bag into the crate, and it traveled off in the other direction.  
  
"See if you can lose him now," she told Logan.  
  
Once again, he wound his way through as many turns and side streets as he could, but to their frustration, the van always turned up on their tail again.  
  
Max looked at Logan. "It wasn't the bag."  
  
"Melody, your cigarette lighter, throw it out," said Logan quickly.  
  
Opening her own window this time, Melody tossed out the cigarette lighter, and the cigarettes as well just in case.  
  
Once more, Logan turned into the side streets, doing a series of turns, eventually going back out on the main road. This time the black van did not follow.  
  
"You'd better donate to the 'Keep America Beautiful campaign'," Max told Melody.  
  
**************************************  
  
Melody was quite shaken by the whole affair, the enormity of her actions being brought home to her.  
  
"What do you plan to do?" Max asked Logan.  
  
"We can't take Melody to her apartment. I guess I'll have to take her back to my place."  
  
Max just looked at him.  
  
To her surprise, Melody spoke from the back seat. "Stop the car, Logan," she told him.  
  
He looked at her through the rear-view mirror.  
  
"Please."  
  
With a quick look at Max, he pulled over, and turned around to face her.  
  
Melody spoke with difficulty. "I know Max doesn't want me at your place because I may bring trouble to you. I can't believe how naïve I've been about everything," she added, sounding precariously close to tears.  
  
Max rolled her eyes. "Damn straight on both points," she remarked.  
  
Logan made a sign with his eyes for her to be quiet.  
  
"You're right, Logan. I've sold out on all my ideals for the sake of money." Melody continued with difficulty, "You and Max risked your lives tonight to save me. I'm ashamed to say I don't even think I'm worth it."  
  
Unmoved, Max nodded her head almost imperceptibly, earning another look from Logan.  
  
"Let's not talk about it now," said Logan quietly.  
  
"You wanna take her back to your crib?" asked Max.  
  
Logan nodded.  
  
Max turned to Melody and said, "Strip."  
  
"Pardon?"  
  
"I said 'strip', take your clothes off, undress, get free..."  
  
"Max," said Logan, frowning at her.  
  
"Logan, we're dealing with pros. I've already missed one trace on her tonight. I don't aim to make that mistake again. She wants to stay, she strips," she finished immovably, "and I dump her clothes in that bin over there."  
  
He gave her another side-ways glance. "Max..."  
  
Unexpectedly, Max had support from Melody.  
  
"She's right. I don't know much about these matters, but it seems to make sense. I don't wanna bring trouble to you, Logan."  
  
Max looked at Melody closely for a moment, but could read nothing other than sincerity in her tone.  
  
"Logan, give her your jacket."  
  
"Why do I feel like this is an argument I can't possibly win?" he muttered, undoing his seatbelt and taking off his brown, leather jacket.  
  
Melody at once stripped down to her underwear, Max deeming that should be safe, and pulled Logan's jacket on, while Max got out of the car and deposited her clothing in the nearby dumpster.  
  
"Home, James," she said to Logan.  
  
Deciding it was probably safer to say nothing, he simply drove back to his apartment, wondering what the security guard on duty would think.  
  
****************************************  
  
Max took Melody into the guest room, and gave her a pair of track pants and a sweat shirt that she'd brought with her for her own comfort.  
  
She stood at the door with her arms folded and waited for her to change, her manner very much the manner of a security guard making sure no-one shop lifted.  
  
"I know you don't like me," said Melody, pulling the sweatshirt over her head, "but I don't aim to bring trouble to Logan."  
  
"Well, it's a bit late for this speech, 'cause you've already done that."  
  
"I know there's no excuse for what I've done, but believe me, if I'd known Logan was Eyes Only, I would never have agreed to doing those reports."  
  
"Why so honourable all of a sudden?" Max asked bluntly.  
  
"You care a lot for him, don't you?" said Melody, hugging her knees to herself as she sat on the bed.  
  
"Just because you're doin' your best to get him killed, don't think that means I'm gonna be nice to you," was the 'warm' reply.  
  
Max, having had enough of her company, went in search of Logan, and found him stretched out on the couch, sound asleep.  
  
She smiled down at him for a moment, and then grabbed a blanket, gently throwing it over Logan, so as not to wake him.  
  
Watching her from a distance, Melody shrugged. "Have it your way, but you've got it bad girl," she said in an undertone.  
  
TBC 


	13. To Market, to market

Thanks again for all the feedback!!  
  
Special thanks to Alaidh for all her work!!  
  
Chapter 13  
  
Logan woke the next morning to wonder why the sun was so bright through his bedroom curtains, and why his bed wasn't quite as comfortable as usual.  
  
Then he wondered why Max's face was poised above him, smiling at him and looking very bright and awake.  
  
Instinctively he put a hand to his face, and then squinted again to see if she was still there.  
  
She was.  
  
Looking about he realized he wasn't in his own bed, he was lying on the couch in his living room.  
  
"Max," he said, his voice still thick with sleep.  
  
She came around to him. "You need more sleep by the looks of it. You've only been asleep about three hours."  
  
The events of the previous day came flooding back with a rush.  
  
"Melody," he said suddenly, pulling himself up to a sitting position.  
  
"She's in the guest room, still asleep. Like you should be," she added.  
  
Logan shook his head. "I' got too much to do."  
  
He took his glasses from the table, not having remembered taking them off, and put them on. "I don't suppose there's coffee or tea brewing is there?"  
  
"I think I can manage that," smiled Max, then yelling to him from the kitchen, she said, "Logan, you got any eggs?"  
  
Logan thought foggily, while he transferred to his wheelchair. "None there on the counter?" he asked her.  
  
"Nope," her voice came back.  
  
Logan headed towards his computer to boot it up. He could see Max rummaging in the kitchen, and checked to see if he could see any sign of coffee coming.  
  
"The kettle boiled?" he hinted.  
  
"What about in the fridge?" came Max's voice.  
  
"I don't keep the kettle in the fridge," he frowned back, not really paying a lot of attention to what she was on about.  
  
"The eggs!" she repeated.  
  
Logan looked up from his screen. "What do I need eggs for again?" he called to her, wondering if he'd missed some important part of the conversation.  
  
A sudden thought came to him. "This doesn't have anything to do with that chicken does it?" he asked warily.  
  
Max came through and looked at him suspiciously. "We 'ate' the chicken last night," she reminded him.  
  
"Right," he agreed gratefully, then tried again, "Any sign of coffee?"  
  
"And I need some cheese, because otherwise it just doesn't taste right. You use cheese don't you?"  
  
Logan scratched his head. Maybe Max was right. Perhaps this was what sleep deprivation was all about.  
  
"I know I shouldn't ask, but what do I need cheese for?" he said resignedly.  
  
Max popped her head around the corner. "To go with the omelette."  
  
Logan looked up at her for a moment, then nodded. "Right," he said in the voice of one who knew 'exactly' what was going on.  
  
After a pause he said hesitantly, "Do I know about the omelette?" - now more desperate than ever for the coffee.  
  
Max looked at him in surprise. "The one I wanted for breakfast," she answered him, as if everyone in the world would have known.  
  
"Oh, that one," Logan answered knowingly, thankful the whole thing was cleared up.  
  
"So, you want a coffee?" she asked brightly.  
  
Logan just looked at her. "No," he said wisely, "I think I'll have a shower."  
  
*****************************************  
  
Feeling in a much better frame of mind to face Max after his shower, Logan headed to the kitchen to make his own coffee and toast.  
  
Max came into the kitchen from the front door, just as he put his plate of toast on his knees to take through to the table.  
  
"Where've you been?" he asked her, surprised.  
  
"Been for a walk. I needed to stretch my legs a little."  
  
"You want some?" he asked her, indicating his toast.  
  
"I ate already," Max replied, picking up his coffee for him and following him to the large dining table.  
  
"You got a pen?" she asked, feeling lazy and looking around in the hope of finding one close by.  
  
"At my desk," Logan replied.  
  
Picking up a pen that lay on the desk, she then sat down opposite him at the table.  
  
"Look at this!" she said, waving an advertising flyer in his direction.  
  
"And?" he remarked, not particularly impressed.  
  
"They're having a special day at the market, big sales on everything. Seein' as how your cupboard's remarkably like Mother Hubbard's, and a girl's gotta eat, I thought I'd write me a list."  
  
"I had no idea you were so domesticated."  
  
Ignoring the remark, pen poised, she asked, "Well?"  
  
"I guess you're gonna tell me I need eggs."  
  
"And cheese," she added. "Anything else?" she asked him, idly twirling the pen around in her hands.  
  
"I'll hafta look," he said, unlocking his brakes and spinning around to head back to the cupboard.  
  
"Logan!"  
  
The note in Max's voice made him stop, and turn quickly towards her. "What is it?" he asked quickly.  
  
Max held the pen up for him to see. It was the one they had been given at the logging camp.  
  
"Read the names," she told him, passing him the pen.  
  
"Carmichael, MacFarland and Davis." He looked enquiringly at her.  
  
"I didn't get a chance to tell you last night, but at the housewarming, I heard dear Uncle Jonas talking to a man called "Mac' who was very interested in his 'favourite' nephew."  
  
Logan looked surprised.  
  
"He told Jonas that your name had 'come across his desk' this week."  
  
With a thoughtful expression, Logan wheeled to his computer.  
  
"I remember Mac. He's been a friend of Jonas's for years, but I'm not sure I ever heard his full name."  
  
Max came over to stand close by, watching intently as the information popped up on the screen.  
  
"Carmichael Logging, Board of Directors, John Carmichael, Stuart MacFarland, Frank Davis. Now," he murmured, "Let's see if we can get a picture up of MacFarland."  
  
"That's him," said Max tensely, a few seconds later as a picture of a man in his fifties appeared on the screen. "A few years younger, but definitely him."  
  
Logan considered the picture on the screen thoughtfully.  
  
"What do you think it means, Logan?" asked Max.  
  
Running a hand over the ever-present stubble on his chin, he shook his head slightly. "I'm not really sure. I guess my name was given to him when we visited up there. I think Stuart MacFarland definitely needs some further investigating."  
  
"Good morning," said an uncertain voice from the doorway.  
  
"Melody. You sleep well?" asked Logan.  
  
"I had a few wild dreams," she admitted, tucking her hair behind her ears. The track pants and sweatshirt of Max's she wore made her look younger, and vulnerable, a far cry from the impeccably groomed news reporter.  
  
"Can I get you some breakfast?" Logan asked.  
  
"Just some coffee," she replied, "but I can do it."  
  
Max, who had been standing next to Logan, said, "I'm on it," and headed to the kitchen.  
  
Logan swivelled his chair around to look at Melody. "We've gotta figure out what to do with you."  
  
"Don't you have some 'bat-spray' or something to make me forget your secret identity?" she suggested.  
  
Logan shook his head slightly, "No, we put it in the coffee nowadays."  
  
She smiled at that.  
  
Max came back with her coffee at that point, and Logan motioned for her to sit in the living area of the spacious apartment.  
  
"Actually, I was thinking more about whoever it is that wants you ... dead," he finished after a slight pause, stopping in front of her where she sat on the couch.  
  
He thought he saw her stiffen at his words, and she cupped her hands tightly around the mug.  
  
"I've been such a fool, Logan," she said remorsefully, "but then I think I already told you that."  
  
Logan looked at her steadily. "It would help if we had something to go on."  
  
Unexpectedly Melody said, "I take it Val doesn't know about ... all that stuff," she finished vaguely, waving a hand towards his computers.  
  
He sat a little straighter in his chair as she spoke, and Max could see he looked uneasy.  
  
"I think it would be better, and definitely safer for both of us, if we don't talk about all that," he remarked.  
  
"Fine," she replied easily, "I was just wondering how many are in your confidence."  
  
"The less you know, the better," put in Max, bluntly.  
  
"She's right," added Logan, with an apologetic smile. "There's too much at stake, not just me."  
  
"No one's interested in the little people," she said dismissively. "It's 'you' they want to see," she said musingly. "I can see the angle," she said, looking at him briefly as she saw her news report, and accompanying nation-wide adulation, in her mind. "Pity," she shrugged, "It would have made a great story. Not," she added quickly, seeing Max's expression, "that I have any intention of running it."  
  
Taking a sip, she studied Logan over the rim of her coffee. "Although I must say, I lay awake for a long time this morning, wondering what made you do Eyes Only - what 'still' makes you do it," she added.  
  
Logan narrowed his eyes slightly as he looked at her, but said nothing, simply drumming his fingers lightly on the metal rim of his chair.  
  
"But then I never understood you, Logan," she admitted, with a silvery laugh.  
  
"None of this helps us in working out who tried to kill you," said Logan, a slight edge to his voice.  
  
"We just may not be there to help you next time," warned Max coldly.  
  
Their words seemed to bring her back to the unpleasantness of her predicament.  
  
"I don't know what to do, Logan," she said suddenly, her blue eyes wide like a scared cat.  
  
"Maybe if you give me your bank account details, I can try and trace where the deposit originated from. Unless you think I'll skip the country with all your wealth."  
  
"Don't joke about it, Logan," Melody replied, without humour.  
  
"Well, until we can find out more about all this, you'll need to stay here."  
  
"What about work?"  
  
"Looks like you just came down with the flu," commiserated Max.  
  
"I'll need to phone them," she stated.  
  
"Do you still have your cell phone?" Logan asked, remembering they'd thrown most of her things away.  
  
"Yeah, I took it out of my coat pocket without thinking," she replied.  
  
Max looked at her closely for the moment.  
  
"Don't use it then, it could be traced. Use mine, just give me a sec to scramble the signal so it's not traceable," advised Logan  
  
Melody nodded. "I'd better do that now, then take a shower if that's all right with you."  
  
"It's fine," okayed Logan.  
  
**************************************  
  
Max had been worried about her bike left at the warehouse, so when Bling arrived in the morning, Logan arranged with him to drive Max back to the warehouse in Logan's car, so that she could retrieve it.  
  
Logan spent the morning attempting to trace the origin of the money transferred to Melody's account, as payment for her Eyes Only report.  
  
Coming up with a dead end on that, he looked into Stuart MacFarland and his connection to Carmichael Logging.  
  
"Stuart MacFarland," Logan read to Max when she got back, "Wife Monique, deceased, July 4, 2017, two sons, Byron and Phillip."  
  
Scrolling down a little further he went on, "President of the 'Seattle Businessmen's League,' owner/director of Carmichael Logging."  
  
"That's it?" asked Max.  
  
"I think the 'Seattle Businessmen's League' warrants some investigation. Sounds like a good front for."  
  
Just then the phone rang, and he leaned forward to pick it up.  
  
Max turned away from the screen, suddenly stopping to listen intently.  
  
She couldn't be entirely sure, but she thought she'd heard something.  
  
Noiselessly, she walked around to the guestroom, and stood just before the open door, listening closely.  
  
There was no sound.  
  
Walking forward, she put her head around the corner to look in at Melody Banks who was lying on the bed, apparently engrossed in a book.  
  
"You got your phone there?" Max asked her.  
  
Melody looked at her, surprised.  
  
"Well?" pressed Max, uncompromisingly.  
  
Melody reached over and took the small phone out of the bedside table drawer.  
  
"I'll just hang onto this for you," she told the reporter. "I wouldn't want you ta get tempted and use it," she explained.  
  
The blonde girl nodded as Max walked off, her expression replaced by one of surprise when Max put her head around the corner once more.  
  
"Just thought I should let ya know," said Max in a friendly voice, "If anything should happen to Logan because of your involvement in all this, I'm gonna be comin' after your peroxided, manicured, ass, and you'll never do another news report again."  
  
On that note, she smiled, and left the room, leaving Melody to stare thoughtfully at the wall.  
  
Logan looked up when she came back into his study.  
  
"You still wanna buy some eggs?" he asked her.  
  
Max nodded, watching Logan as he grabbed his jacket from the back of the couch where it had been left by Max after Melody had taken it off.  
  
"You wanna leave all this an' go shopping?" Max asked, indicating his bank of computers.  
  
"Well, you did say there was a sale."  
  
"Logan Cale hunting for a bargain, now this I gotta see!"  
  
Logan gave her the look he especially reserved for Max when she made one of those comments.  
  
"Actually, I just got a call from one of the stall holders at the market who's on the informant net. He tells me there's been something big goin' on down there the last coupla days. Eyes Only has been watching the area for some weeks now. Looks like some heavy drug dealers have moved into the area. He's got some photos to give to me."  
  
Picking up his car keys he said, "I hope all the drug dealers from South Market haven't moved on to this one. So, you wanna come?"  
  
"Sure, I'll tag along," Max replied. "What about Melody?"  
  
"I guess she'll hafta wait here with Bling. It's too risky for her to leave here yet."  
  
"I hardly think she's gonna want to stay here forever," Max remarked.  
  
"I'd better go talk to her," Logan said.  
  
**********************************************  
  
Finding a parking space turned out to be quite a difficult feat, as it looked like thousands had been attracted by the same flyer Max had read.  
  
Sales were few and far between in post pulse Seattle, and it appeared as if even the hint of one could bring people flocking to it.  
  
The market they were going to was a mostly open affair, having grown gradually in the base of what was meant to have been an apartment building that had had the foundations poured, and then abandoned because the money for the project had run out.  
  
Here and there, huge steel girders protruded from the concrete, to support other floors that were never built.  
  
Finally, after driving around for some time, Logan finally found a space.  
  
This market served a more affluent area than the run down South Market, and it showed by the quality of the goods sold.  
  
Max walked beside Logan, enjoying the holiday atmosphere. Coloured flags had been strung between the rows of stallholders, clowns and other street entertainers wandered amongst the shoppers, and it appeared as if most stalls had a genuine bargain to offer.  
  
Even though it was slow pushing his way through the crowds, Logan couldn't help smiling every time he saw Max's face light up over some item that was an 'absolute steal', which made him grin when she said it, considering her occupation when he'd first met her.  
  
One of the first things they found were eggs, which Max swooped on and insisted paying for on the grounds that she wanted the omelette.  
  
"Here, you hold them," she said, carefully giving them to Logan as they were packed post-pulse style in a flimsy cardboard packaging.  
  
Soon they both carried a number of bags, and had managed to only argue once, that being the important issue of whether fudge brownies tasted better with or without walnuts.  
  
With a quick look at his watch, Logan said, "We'd better meet Louis now. I said two o'clock."  
  
Heading down towards the back of the market, they found his fruit and vegetable stall without any problem.  
  
Max hung back a little while Logan spoke to the informant, all the while pretending he was only there to buy produce.  
  
Max checked out the area for anyone suspicious, but for the most part they were surrounded by families out enjoying the relatively fine afternoon, and the opportunity to buy their children a treat they normally couldn't afford.  
  
Max couldn't help smiling as she watched one little girl of about two and a half hum and hah over what colour lollipop she should choose, her blue eyes intently regarding the array of the brightly coloured candy as her sister, who looked to be about eight, held her up so that she was at eye level with them.  
  
"Hurry up, Bridget!" the older girl urged her, "My arms are breakin'."  
  
Turning around to check out the other direction, Max was suddenly jostled by a man wearing a thick snow parka, the hood so large it almost completely hid his face; he had it pulled so far forward.  
  
Stopping suddenly as he collided with her, the hood fell back the smallest amount to reveal his face. He looked to be a handsome man of about twenty- five.  
  
"Sorry," she smiled at him, but he said nothing, barely giving her a glance, and went on his way.  
  
Walking back to Logan, she heard him finish his transaction. "These will be greatly appreciated," he told Louis, holding up the bag of apples that had the surveillance photos hidden inside.  
  
"Well, there are a few too many 'bad' apples around here," he said to Logan meaningfully.  
  
Logan nodded, and had just put the apples on his lap, when the man two stalls down suddenly began yelling, "Bomb, bomb, there's a bomb."  
  
Immediately pandemonium reigned, people screaming and running towards the exits, pushing at those who as yet hadn't heard the man's cries and were still peaceably enjoying the afternoon.  
  
Max and Logan looked at each other in horror. It was too easy to imagine the carnage from an explosion in such a busy area.  
  
The man was still running aimlessly around, yelling out his dire prediction.  
  
Max ran up to him and tried to talk to him but all she could get out of him was, "Bomb, bomb."  
  
In the end she smacked him over the head to get some sense out of him. "A man gave me this," he said in a terrified voice, and then, as if he'd broken out of his almost frozen panicked state, he ran off.  
  
The note Max had in her hands read, "Bomb. 10 minutes."  
  
She showed it to Logan who'd wheeled up to her. "Do you think it's a hoax?" she asked anxiously.  
  
"You wanna stand around here to find out?" he countered, taking out his cell phone and calling Matt Sung.  
  
Louis, the greengrocer stood by, nervously wringing his hands.  
  
"Have you heard anything about a bomb before?" Logan asked him, after getting off the phone with Matt.  
  
"No, nothing," he bleated, obviously unnerved by the situation.  
  
With a feeling of horror, Max thought of all the families they'd seen at the market. She thought of the little girl choosing her lollipop.  
  
"We've got to assume this is for real," Logan told her tersely, then added, "Matt's on his way."  
  
"Logan, we don't even know how big this bomb is," said Max, looking around intently, almost hoping there'd be a big sign saying 'Here it is.'  
  
The area immediately around them was slowly becoming deserted as the rumour took hold and Max was relieved to see the little girl and her sister had gone, but the pathways between the stalls were now choked with people as everyone tried to converge on the exits.  
  
She turned to Louis who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there.  
  
"Louis, take Logan and get him outta here," she said to the informant, dumping the bags she carried in Logan's lap.  
  
Logan grabbed Max by the hand as she was about to run off. "Where d'you think you're going?" he snapped.  
  
"I got about seven minutes. I gotta try to find it, Logan." Then turning to Louis she yelled fiercely, "Don't you leave him."  
  
Without looking back, she started ransacking every stall in the area. Her brain told her it was futile, but the thought of the little girl and her lollipop kept her going.  
  
Why had the warning message been delivered to that corner of the market? There had to be a reason for that.  
  
Somewhere in the distance she could hear the wailing of police sirens, gradually coming closer.  
  
And all the while, the time kept ticking away.  
  
'Oh God,' she suddenly thought, 'what if the note was wrong? What if it was only five minutes to detonation? Would Logan get away in time? Would Louis stay with him?'  
  
Desperately she pored over any possible hiding place, but stall after stall, she found nothing, and as she looked, other thoughts came to her, what would she do if she found it? Would she have time to de-activate it?  
  
Two stalls to go and the time had ticked by to fifty seconds remaining, forty, thirty.  
  
"Go!!" her mind screamed at her.  
  
Turning and running with her extraordinary speed, she tore up the now deserted path they'd come along. Unexpectedly she felt herself lifted bodily into the air as the force from the blast hit her like a gigantic wave. She felt herself somersaulting through the air, then she hit the ground with a force that took the air out of her lungs.  
  
She opened her eyes to look into a pair of blue eyes, framed by golden curls, one chubby hand tightly clutching her lollipop, looking at her in amazement as she had dropped out of the sky.  
  
"Mommy, Mommy, she can fly!!"  
  
TBC 


	14. Fallout

A/N My apologies for duplicating Chapter 12. If any of you have missed Chapter 13, 'To Market, To Market,' it has been posted, so read that first before Chapter 14. Sorry!!  
  
Once again, many thanks to all those who reviewed and for all the positive feedback. It is really great to know you're all enjoying this.  
  
Thank you to my beta, Alaidh, for correcting all my Aussieisms!!  
  
Chapter 14  
  
The next face Max saw was that of detective Matt Sung.  
  
"Are you all right?" he asked her, clearing a space around her, as more and more people had gathered to see the woman who'd dropped from the sky so spectacularly.  
  
Max sat up, her senses swimming for a moment before the world righted itself.  
  
"Sit still, I should have you checked by a paramedic," Matt urged her.  
  
"No, I'm fine, really," Max insisted, only feeling a little sore now that the initial shock had worn off.  
  
Taking Matt's hand, she stood up and he cleared a path through the still hovering crowds and took her directly to Logan, with Louis still at his side. The look of relief on his face when he saw her was quickly replaced by a wide grin. "So, you have other talents I don't know about?"  
  
With a look skywards, Max said, "Well, a girl's gotta have a few secrets."  
  
"You wanna tell me what's goin' down here, Logan?" asked Matt seriously, after a quick look around to check there was no one close by to overhear them.  
  
"Louis here had some information to pass on. Word is there are some kinda big drug dealings goin' on down here. We were just about to leave when this guy starts yelling, 'Bomb'."  
  
Max took the note out of her pocket and gave it to Matt. "Someone had given him this."  
  
The detective read it with a grim face.  
  
"I'll have to get back to you; I'll need to clear the area, check for any casualties," he said, as another of his officers came towards him.  
  
Matt turned to Logan before he left, saying, "We need to talk about this." Then hurried away to organize his investigation.  
  
Logan looked up at Max as Matt Sung walked away.  
  
"You took a risk," he told her, looking not all together happy.  
  
Shrugging slightly, she looked at Louis, who at once stepped forward and said to her,  
  
"I stayed right with him, just like you said," his manner reminding her of a puppy keen to please its master.  
  
"Thank you, Louis," she smiled at him, darting a look at Logan to see if he'd noticed the adoring tone in the greengrocer's voice.  
  
"We need to get going," said Logan at once, spinning around and calling over his shoulder to Louis, "I'll be in touch."  
  
Max bestowed another brilliant smile on Louis, and then followed Logan.  
  
"I thought you might have thanked him, too," Max said a touch slyly.  
  
"Yeah, well next time find a bodyguard who doesn't take you so literally," he muttered, having been quite annoyed by Louis's literal translation of Max's words and his refusal to let Logan out of his sight.  
  
Matt Sung's police were evacuating the sight, but the absence of wailing sirens told them it appeared the warning had been given in time, and the effect of the bomb must have been reasonably localized.  
  
Once at the car, Max held out her hands to take the bags of groceries from Logan, and put them on the back seat. Nearly finished, she turned to Logan and said, "I don't see the eggs. Have you got the eggs?"  
  
Holding up the flimsy box, he said, "I 'had' the eggs."  
  
"Oh," said Max apologetically, remembering in a flash how she'd dumped her bags on Logan in her haste to search for the bomb.  
  
Seeing the look on his face, she said quickly, "I wasn't that keen on an omelette anyway."  
  
**********************************************  
  
After waiting a few minutes for the worst of the congested traffic to disperse, Logan was about to drive away when his cell rang.  
  
"Hey," was Logan's response when he saw the call came from his own apartment.  
  
Bling was on the other end, and he sounded particularly relieved to hear Logan's voice.  
  
"You and Max okay?" he asked, nonetheless.  
  
"Both fine."  
  
"I heard about the bomb at the market on the news. Had me worried," the trainer admitted over the line.  
  
"We're on our way back now. Things okay with Melody?"  
  
"Yeah, fine this end."  
  
"Good, see you soon," replied Logan, ending the call.  
  
Max watched Logan as he pulled out of the parking space. "I don't want to sound ungrateful after you've shown me such a good time, but do you have any idea what this bomb thing was all about?"  
  
"I wish I did," Logan replied, sounding a little frustrated. "I don't know if this was connected to the vigilante group, or if it was some private drug war caper. I don't know what Matt'll be thinking with bombs turning up everywhere I go."  
  
"Probably just put it down to the force of your magnetic personality," said Max lightly.  
  
"We're just not getting anywhere on this," went on Logan, refusing to be sidetracked. "If this was the work of the vigilante group, then things have gotten even more serious, all of a sudden. Whoever planted that bomb was prepared to kill innocent people."  
  
Max's face clouded over as she thought of the little girl with the lollipop.  
  
"We've gotta stop them, Logan," she insisted.  
  
Logan nodded his head with an ironic look, "Well, it's not as if we haven't been trying."  
  
"I got a feeling about that MacFarland. You say he's a friend of your Uncle's."  
  
Logan nodded again.  
  
"Well, that's gotta say something about him," said Max irrepressibly.  
  
"Unfortunately, I don't think we can hang him on those grounds," remarked Logan dryly.  
  
"Pity."  
  
"I'll put the word out on the informant net about this 'Seattle Business Men's League', see if I can come up with something, and I'm sure I can find out more about MacFarland himself. He's a reasonably high-profile businessman."  
  
"Then there's Melody," added Max, almost managing to say the name without a sneer.  
  
"It would be nice to be able to concentrate on just one thing for a change," replied Logan irritably.  
  
********************************************  
  
Max carefully carried the, by now, miserable pack of smashed eggs, while Logan took the other bags, thankful the eggs hadn't managed to soak through on to him.  
  
Logan was about to open the door to his apartment, when it unexpectedly opened for him, and Bling stood in front of them.  
  
Logan looked up at him in some surprise, an uneasy suspicion forming in his mind.  
  
"You didn't see Melody did you?" asked Bling, decidedly not hopeful.  
  
Logan closed his eyes and grimaced for a moment, knowing what was coming.  
  
"I'm sorry Logan. I thought she was here when I was speaking to you on the phone, but I'm just not sure now."  
  
"She's gone?" asked Max, a sinking feeling in her own stomach.  
  
Bling looked at Logan again. "Logan ..."  
  
Logan wheeled through to the kitchen. "It's not your fault. You couldn't have stopped her if she'd wanted to go, anyway," he said, dumping the bags on the counter. "It's fine Bling," he added, seeing the trainer start to protest. "You can get going. Something tells me I won't get to my reps today."  
  
Max could feel the beginning of something like panic rising inside her.  
  
"Logan, you don't think ...?" finishing in the air, unable to speak out the fear that had formed in her mind.  
  
"You think she's on her way to turn me in?" Logan asked, then added almost tiredly, "I just don't know what her game is."  
  
Max suddenly went to Logan's desk, triumphantly holding up Melody's cell phone. "Thought I heard her on the phone before we left for the market, but I wasn't sure. I took her cell from her anyway, just in case."  
  
Logan looked at it thoughtfully, the same thought crossing his mind as hers.  
  
Max said, "D'you think we could try the 'last number dialled' routine again?" She passed the phone to Logan, waiting anxiously as he pressed the button and waited for the call to be picked up.  
  
Holding the phone in his left hand, he listened to a voice on the other end saying, "Melody, thank God, the name, Eyes Only, have you got it? ... Melody?"  
  
Max watched Logan holding the phone, a frozen expression on his face.  
  
Even she could hear the voice saying, "Melody? Melody?" then abruptly, the line went dead.  
  
"Logan?"  
  
He looked up at her. She thought he looked ill.  
  
"Logan?" she asked again, this time a little more insistently.  
  
Looking down at the phone in his hand, he said, "I guess you were right. She intends to ..." here he cleared his throat a little, then continued on a stronger note, his eyes meeting Max's, "make 'me' her next story."  
  
Max stood there, for once speechless, letting the enormity of what he said sink in.  
  
"I guess it was a bit much to expect her to pass on such a great scoop," he added, with painful sarcasm.  
  
Coming out of her fog, Max said urgently, "We gotta find her. Where would she go?"  
  
Logan waved a dismissive hand. "I don't know."  
  
Max felt like she wanted to shake him. "Logan, we gotta try something!"  
  
Thinking back, Max said, her voice hard, "At her apartment, there was a man. A colleague she called him." Abruptly she brought her eyes up to Logan's face. "We'll try her apartment first. Maybe we'll get lucky."  
  
Not getting any response from Logan, she said sharply, "You gonna come?" The thought coming to her that she would much prefer to have him with her just in case the police or someone even worse was on their way to his apartment right now.  
  
Still getting no response from him, she turned to him scathingly and said, "So that's it? You're just gonna give up?"  
  
She saw the annoyance in his eyes as he shot a look up at her. With cool self-control he said, "And just what do you propose to do with her when we find her?"  
  
The realization of what he said hit her hard. He was right; they couldn't just 'take her out.'  
  
"Let's just find her first, then work this bitch out," she retorted, refusing to give in. "Maybe we'll get lucky."  
  
She could see the stubborn look in his eyes beginning to fade, to be replaced by something else. It wasn't really his way to give up so easily.  
  
Moving closer to him, she said in a voice that left no room for argument, "You'd better get your ass movin', 'cause I'm not goin' without you."  
  
Heading out of the room, she turned quickly to check the effect of her words on him. "Be ready in five," she said, "I'm just changing."  
  
********************************************  
  
When they got to Melody's apartment, Max said, "Don't park out front. Go a few doors down."  
  
Doing as she said, Logan pulled into the curb, wondering at the back of his mind what the hell they were going to do, even it they found her.  
  
Opening her door, Max said, "I'll check it out first."  
  
Dressed now for 'work' in her black leather jacket and back catsuit, she warily walked towards the apartment. She could see an elderly lady tending the flowers in the large planters at the front of the building.  
  
Not really paying her much attention, she was surprised when the woman turned around and smiled saying, "Back so soon?"  
  
Max gave her a polite smile, wondering how the woman could possibly have remembered her from the night before.  
  
Sensing her reticence, the woman took a closer look at her and said, "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were the same young girl who was here before and we talked about dogs."  
  
Max went to murmur something polite, when the woman continued, "It must have been the clothes. You look so alike from a distance."  
  
"The clothes?" asked Max, already feeling uncomfortable as to the possible meaning of her words.  
  
"Yes, dear, almost identical. She was visiting Melody, such a sweet girl," she added kindly.  
  
Max gave her a polite smile, then hurried on. Someone else in a black cat suit visiting the building - why did life have to be so complicated?  
  
Back at Melody's door, she hesitated, then decided to enter stealthily, picking the lock effortlessly with a small device.  
  
Once inside, she realized there wasn't much cause for stealth. Melody wasn't going to hear her. In fact, Melody wasn't going to hear anything ever.  
  
Her neck was broken.  
  
Picking up the phone, she called Logan on his cell.  
  
"Come on up," she said curtly.  
  
********************************************  
  
"Looks like we got lucky after all," said Max tonelessly, as Logan surveyed Melody's lifeless body.  
  
"Yeah, well 'she' certainly didn't," retorted Logan harshly.  
  
Max looked around the attractive apartment, her eyes falling on what looked like an old photo album on the kitchen table. She opened it up, then looked at Logan, hesitating for a moment. Making up her mind, she said, "Check this out."  
  
Handing him the heavy book, she turned away, not sure if she'd done the right thing.  
  
Logan opened it, his thoughts confused as he looked at pictures of a past life, when the world seemed a simpler place.  
  
Arms about each other, smiles wide, and thankfully ignorant of what the future would hold, Val, himself and Melody, sunburn and windswept after a day's sailing.  
  
It all seemed a lifetime ago.  
  
Max, checking through Melody's address book, jumped suddenly as Logan slammed the album down on the coffee table.  
  
"This is 'not' the way I wanted it," he said, his voice tight with an emotion that was now held firmly in check.  
  
"Unfortunately, we rarely get a chance to choose," Max replied gently, then in a more business-like manner she said, "We need to check through the apartment before we go. We don't want to miss something that ties her to you other than as a past friend."  
  
Logan nodded, looking about unenthusiastically.  
  
"Logan, perhaps you should ..." her voice trailed off as she listened intently.  
  
Someone was at the door, turning a key in the lock.  
  
She motioned to Logan to go into the bedroom, as she took up her position immediately behind the door, after turning off the lights.  
  
Logan had only just closed the door behind him, when the apartment door opened slowly, as if the visitor was unsure of his or her reception.  
  
As soon as the figure had stepped through the doorway, Max lunged forward, one arm tightening about the neck of the visitor, as she turned on the light with her other hand.  
  
The man she held was about thirty, with dark, thinning hair, a hooked nose and a chin that hinted at a weak disposition.  
  
Once again, she held Melody's colleague in the same pose. "I don't know about you, but I'm getting a little tired of you sneakin' in here."  
  
She made him spread out his arms and legs against the door, and checked him for a weapon, before deliberately turning him around to face Melody's body.  
  
The man's gasp and the whitening of his face and sagging of his knees were obviously no act.  
  
Max let him drop to the ground, and watched him wordlessly as he covered his face with his hands as if trying to block out the vision of Melody's dead body and her final contorted features. She was not a pretty sight.  
  
Dry sobs eventually emerged from behind his hands.  
  
"Do you know who did this?" asked Max, ever mindful of the need to get out of there.  
  
The man looked up, scarcely having understood her.  
  
"Do you know who did this?" snapped Max again.  
  
He merely looked at Max, his mouth hanging open foolishly.  
  
Max walked up and shook him roughly to try and get some sense out of the man. "Tell me what you know."  
  
The man seemed to be coming to his senses, and now Max noted he was choosing 'not' to speak.  
  
"You wanna end up next to her?" she asked unpleasantly.  
  
The thought clearly traumatized the man, and he shook his head violently, the rest of his body began to shake as well.  
  
"Did Melody tell you she knew who Eyes Only was?" asked Max suddenly.  
  
By the look of terror in the man's eyes, she could see she'd hit the jackpot.  
  
"What did she tell you?" she yelled at him.  
  
"She called me last night, said she knew who Eyes Only was. She called me today, told me she was safe, and that she'd get back to me."  
  
They'd been had.  
  
Melody had always intended to run with her story. She wondered bleakly if Logan was listening.  
  
"Who wanted her dead?" she asked the man coldly.  
  
"I guess it had to be Eyes Only," he said vaguely.  
  
At that she grabbed him by the throat. "Eyes Only did 'not' do this," she ground out savagely, "and if I ever find out you've repeated that crap to 'anyone' I'm gonna make damn sure you don't get the chance to tell anyone 'anything' again! Got it?" and she gave him a whack on the head to emphasize her point.  
  
Melody's colleague quailed before her anger.  
  
"Who paid her to run with the Eyes Only dirt?"  
  
"I don't know ... really," he added in terror, as he saw Max's hand descending again. "She never told me. I just guessed someone was paying her off. Last night, when I came by, I was gonna tell her to drop the whole thing. She told me she thought she was being followed." His face sagged again as he caught sight of Melody.  
  
"Oh God!" he cried, suddenly, "Why did they do this to her?"  
  
Max looked at him, moved by his grief despite herself.  
  
"I'll find out who did this," she promised him, "if you forget you ever saw me. Believe me, short term memory loss'll be a whole lot safer for you."  
  
Something in her voice made him look up at her.  
  
"Now, get outta here. When the police tell you she's dead, you know nothing about anything, right?"  
  
The man nodded silently.  
  
Looking at him, Max wondered about his acting ability, but hoped her threats and his desire to bring the killers to justice would instil some sort of backbone in him.  
  
"Get going,' she told him.  
  
Carefully avoiding a glance in Melody's direction, he slumped out of the room.  
  
Once she was sure he'd gone, she opened the bedroom door to let Logan know it was safe.  
  
His expression was unreadable as he wheeled out.  
  
"I didn't want him to see you; I thought he might recognize you from Melody's album," Max explained.  
  
"Right.'  
  
"Did you find anything while you were in the bedroom?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"Then I think we should go," replied Max, watching him carefully.  
  
"Fine," he answered, heading for the door without a backward glance.  
  
*************************************  
  
Logan drove silently, a familiar frown above his glasses.  
  
Max stole a quick look at his profile, her own stomach twisted in knots of guilt.  
  
She'd brought this latest catastrophe on Logan.  
  
How was she going to tell him?  
  
"Logan, there's something I need to say to you."  
  
He looked across at her quickly, then swung his eyes back to the road, turning on the wipers as the steady drizzle began to obliterate the windshield.  
  
Max looked out into the night.  
  
Sensing her reticence, Logan said with deceptive mildness, "Compared to everything else that's gone down lately, I don't see how things could get any worse."  
  
"They did Logan. They just got a whole lot worse."  
  
The intensity of her voice made him narrow his eyes for a moment, as if preparing himself for the worst.  
  
Max spoke quietly, "I think Melody was taken out by a Manticore assassin."  
  
TBC 


	15. MacFarland

Thanks again to all the reviewers!!! Very much appreciated as always!!!  
  
Special thanks to Alaidh!!  
  
Chapter 15  
  
"You're right. Things just got worse," Logan agreed matter-of -factly.  
  
"I can't be entirely sure, but the old lady out in front of Melody's building thought I was the same person who'd visited Melody earlier," Max said.  
  
She added dully, "A girl wearing a black catsuit visits Melody, I find Melody with her neck snapped and someone's tryin' very hard to make life difficult for Eyes Only. It all adds up, Logan, and I don't like the numbers."  
  
Logan thoughtfully bit his bottom lip. He had to admit, it all added up, and he didn't like the numbers, either.  
  
Speaking carefully, he said, "What are the chances of Melody talking before she died?"  
  
Max spoke quickly. "I can't be sure," she admitted, "but the usual procedure would be to get in and out as quickly as possible, with a minimum amount of personal contact."  
  
"But you can't be sure," reiterated Logan, a touch dryly.  
  
"No," she admitted, then added, "I knew there'd be trouble when you did that Eyes Only broadcast for us after I helped Zack get away from Manticore. I shouldn't have let you." Max's brown eyes were swimming with worry. It was bad enough that Manticore was after her, but she would have done anything to keep him out of their clutches.  
  
Logan's mind was processing the facts quickly.  
  
Thinking out loud, he said, "If Manticore killed Melody, it points to them being the ones behind the Eyes Only dirt. The question is, did they manufacture the situation, or are they taking advantage of the situation to discredit Eyes Only?"  
  
"We have no way of knowing that," put in Max, in the same worried tone.  
  
"Well, it makes sense. Eyes Only pissed them off by doing the cable hack; this is their way of getting back at him. What better way than to discredit the Informant Net, effectively putting Eyes Only out of business because nobody believes a word he says?"  
  
He smiled cynically for a moment. "It's clever. I'm surprised no one thought of it sooner."  
  
"Well, before you start giving out prizes, what are we gonna do about this?"  
  
Logan thought for a minute, the whining of the wipers sounding unnaturally loud.  
  
Finally he said, "If the Manticore angle was purely about throwing mud, then they probably figured they'd done their damage, and it was time to cover up the loose ends."  
  
"Namely, Melody," put in Max.  
  
"Yeah, Melody," echoed Logan softly.  
  
Max looked at him quickly. She thought she'd detected a note of pain in his voice.  
  
"Back at the apartment, you heard?" was all she could bring herself to ask him.  
  
"She was under a lot of pressure," Logan said, his eyes staring out the front windshield, for the moment unseeingly. "I can't all together blame her."  
  
Max turned away. Blaming Melody was exactly what she wanted to do. She wondered how Logan could be so forgiving.  
  
Perhaps sensing her thoughts, Logan said, "I think she always felt kinda second best ... probably saw this as her big opportunity."  
  
"And sell out a friend?" Max flew back at him.  
  
Logan didn't have an answer to that one.  
  
All Logan could think of were Melody's words to him at the safe house. "She told me not to judge her by my standards," he told Max quietly.  
  
Max gave him a small smile. "I just want you to be able to sleep without worrying about someone breaking down your door in the middle of the night."  
  
"I'll be able to sleep when I've found who's planting these bombs and executing any resident bad guys," Logan replied seriously.  
  
************************************************  
  
"Did Melody talk?"  
  
It was the question burning in Max's mind as she numbly helped Logan put the groceries away that they'd left on his counter in their rush to get out.  
  
Common sense told her you don't pass the time of day with your 'hit'. You get in and get out.  
  
Both for Melody's sake and Logan's continued safety, she hoped that Melody barely knew what was happening.  
  
In her mind she could imagine Melody opening the door, never suspecting the attractive girl in black, who was probably waiting for her to show up at her apartment.  
  
The deed was most likely performed as soon as they were in the door.  
  
It's hard to talk when someone's snapping your neck, thought Max dryly.  
  
Her eyes went to Logan, putting away the last of the groceries.  
  
If only she could be sure.  
  
"You want some dinner?" he asked, breaking into her thoughts.  
  
"I'm not that hungry," she admitted.  
  
"Know the feeling," he agreed, unlocking his brakes and heading through to his computer.  
  
"Watcha gonna do?" asked Max, following him.  
  
"Firstly, I'd better call Matt, fill him in on what happened in Morristown. If I arrange a meet with him, will you go and drop him the gun we took off that heavy? I still want it checked for prints."  
  
He saw her momentary hesitation, and swung back around to his screen, snapping on the brakes of his chair, his hands going to the keys.  
  
"I need to get the lowdown on MacFarland and look into the 'Seattle Businessmen's' League'."  
  
Without taking his eyes from the screen, he said, "Max. There's nothing to point to Melody exposing me before she died."  
  
"We can't be sure," she said quietly, watching him as she leant against the paneling that divided the area.  
  
"I got too much to do to think about that," he stated tersely. "Will you do it for me, or not?"  
  
He made it sound more like an ultimatum.  
  
"Arrange the meet. I'll do it." Max snapped, not sounding happy.  
  
"Good, then I can concentrate on this stuff," answered Logan, reaching forward for his phone.  
  
Wondering sometimes how she let him talk her into things she didn't want to do, Max headed into the kitchen to make a hot drink while Logan was on the phone with Matt.  
  
Logan was just finishing off his conversation with Matt when Max returned with two mugs of coffee.  
  
"How'd it go?" she asked Logan, setting his drink down for him.  
  
"I told him about Charlie, and our theory on the logging camp. He'll meet with you in twenty minutes at the corner of South 15th and Pacific Avenue."  
  
"Did you tell him about Melody?"  
  
He sighed at that. "I had to tell him. I figured it would be safer if he were heading up that investigation. Naturally, I couldn't tell him about Manticore or that Melody had guessed Eyes Only's identity."  
  
"Hope we did the right thing by leaving that album behind," said Max, sitting in his computer chair, the mug of coffee in her hand.  
  
"Assassins aren't in the habit of stealing family snapshots. It would have posed too many questions if it disappeared and one of her close friends wondered where it had gone. I told Matt I knew her. It seemed the safest route."  
  
Pulling out the drawer to his desk, he took out the gun, now wrapped in an old shirt, that Max was to take to Matt Sung.  
  
"Here you go."  
  
Max looked at it for a moment.  
  
"I promise you I wont let anyone snap my neck ... at least 'til you get back," he added considerately.  
  
"Very funny," she retorted.  
  
************************************************  
  
"Logan," called Max, striding into his apartment, some time later.  
  
"Here," he called from the kitchen.  
  
She looked at him in surprise. "Thought you weren't hungry."  
  
"Well, I have a friend who's a transgenic killing machine, and she's been known to get real cranky if she's not fed."  
  
"I need to keep up my strength to save your ass," Max replied glibly, taking the plate of food Logan handed her and heading through to the dining table that he'd already set.  
  
"You seem a bit happier," she commented, as he brought his own plate to the table.  
  
"I've found out a few interesting facts about Uncle Jonas's good friend."  
  
Max raised her eyebrows.  
  
"Turns out he's quite the businessman, with fingers in everything from logging to pharmaceuticals. He was halfway through a medical degree when he changed streams and became an industrial chemist, building up a small, but highly profitable business under the name of Byron/ Phillip chemicals, which happens to be the name of his two sons."  
  
"Sounds like your regular, devoted family man," commented Max.  
  
"Looks like he used the money he made off that as a springboard for a whole lot of other investments that were even more profitable. To put it bluntly, the man's worth a mint."  
  
"Sounds right down Jonas's alley."  
  
"Mmm," agreed Logan, pouring them each some wine, before continuing. "Here's the interesting part - his wife was killed two years ago. It looks like she got caught in the crossfire of some gang war. They were really bad a few years back."  
  
"Enough to send MacFarland into some sorta tailspin?"  
  
"It's possible."  
  
"What about this 'Businessmen's League' thingy?"  
  
"Ah, the 'Seattle Businessmen's League'. Another interesting story."  
  
"No wonder you're in such a good mood," remarked Max.  
  
He gave her one of his quick grins. "Guess I got lucky while you were gone."  
  
"We certainly needed some of that," Max said, "The sooner this is cleared up, the better."  
  
"The League was formed eighteen months ago, headed by MacFarland himself, and included a number of influential 'businessmen', needless to say."  
  
Max waited for the punch line, knowing it was coming by the look in his eye.  
  
"I did a bit of 'research' into their files, and I found a very interesting name tucked away on their books: Theodore Durant, alias Buddy Franklin, a particularly extreme right-wing idealist, suspected, but never proven, to be involved in some high profile, highly suspect, activities."  
  
"You 'have' been doing your homework," admired Max.  
  
"The next thing I have to do is find a list of possible places where they've got their trained vigilantes holed up."  
  
"How does Manticore fit into all this?"  
  
"I can't be sure of that," Logan admitted.  
  
"Still, it's a start," she couldn't help smiling at him.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
**********************************************  
  
Logan spent the rest of the evening, and well into the morning, continuing his research into MacFarland, and "The Seattle Businessmen's League,' but without the success of his initial research, and eventually, with considerable frustration, he gave up.  
  
The next morning, he was woken by a phone call from Bennett, very upset with the news of Melody's death.  
  
Marianne had been crying all morning since she'd heard. To think they'd all only seen her the night before. Some woman in black was a suspect. Poor Melody, all she wanted to do was find the right man and have kids.  
  
Logan, of course, had to act shocked and surprised and saddened, and by the time he got off the phone he'd had more than enough.  
  
He hadn't considered yesterday what he would say to Bennett and Marianne, and suddenly faced with it, all he felt was guilt.  
  
He didn't know if he felt bad about lying to Bennett or if he felt bad about having to lie about Melody, and the person she had become.  
  
"Well, no one came to strangle you in your bed while you were asleep," said Max brightly to him as he came into the kitchen, genuinely very glad about the fact, and feeling more and more sure that Melody had died with her secret untold. Well, that was one thing she'd be thankful to the reporter for.  
  
"Great," was the surly reply.  
  
"Did you get out of bed on the wrong side or something?" she asked him.  
  
"Had a call from Bennett," was all he would answer, in a tone that said he didn't want to talk about it, as he made coffee.  
  
"Oh," commented Max, thinking it would be wiser to say nothing.  
  
At that moment, Bling came in. "Morning people," he greeted them both in a slightly subdued manner.  
  
Turning to Logan, he said quietly, "I suppose you know ..."  
  
"Yep, I know about Melody," Logan interrupted him shortly.  
  
"I'm sorry," said Bling, his eyes going to Max.  
  
"I don't wanna talk about it," Logan stated with finality, as a general comment to both of them, pushing himself into his study.  
  
Max followed a few minutes later to find him staring at his computer screen.  
  
"You forgot to turn it on again," she murmured, putting his coffee on the desk for him. "You forgot your coffee, too."  
  
"Thought you'd be on your way to work by now," he remarked, ignoring both of her comments.  
  
"I figure they can survive without me for another day."  
  
"Whatever," he commented, in a tone that said he didn't care if she was there or not  
  
Regarding his computer as if it were personally responsible for every wrong in his life, he didn't boot it up, but wheeled out to find Bling instead.  
  
"We'll do my reps now, if you're ready," he told his trainer.  
  
"Sure," replied Bling, recognizing the 'I'm pissed off with the world,' tone. Despite knowing what he was in for, he added calmly, "I'll go and set up."  
  
Working through the reps, Logan tried to concentrate, but the truth was, all he could see was that day they'd been sailing on his Uncle's yacht.  
  
The memories, long repressed by unhappy ones, came flooding back. He'd only known Val a short while that day, and already he'd been totally captivated by her. It was the day they'd first kissed, tentatively at first, then long and passionately, only to break apart, slightly embarrassed, when Melody unexpectedly came up on deck. They'd all laughed about it later as the yacht returned to shore, the glowing sun by then, a burnt, orange smudge on the horizon.  
  
Logan looked at the weights with dislike as Bling got them out and put them on the exercise table.  
  
Bling, interpreting his expression correctly, was considering whether to let it pass or not, when Max came in, the phone in her hand.  
  
"Stuart MacFarland," she mouthed at him.  
  
Using one hand to steady himself on the table, he took the phone, shooting a look at Max as he said, "Hello."  
  
Stuart MacFarland, at the other end, spoke with easy familiarity, "Logan, we spoke the other night at the housewarming."  
  
"That's right," replied Logan reservedly.  
  
"Your name has come across my desk. I hear you're doing an article on re- forestation."  
  
"It's an area I'm researching," agreed Logan.  
  
"Excellent. Our timber industry always needs some unbiased reporting and I hear that you have a very good reputation for upholding those ideals."  
  
"I try," responded Logan coolly, wondering where he was going with this.  
  
"Wonderful, wonderful. As one of the owners of Carmichael Logging, I'm holding an informal, well let's call it an 'information evening', about the timber industry. We've been getting quite a bit of bad publicity, largely due to all the 'fly-by-nighters', and we're doing our best to educate the community on the best way of preserving our forests."  
  
"Sounds interesting," said Logan briefly.  
  
"I'd be pleased if you could attend. I think you'd find it beneficial to your story," urged MacFarland.  
  
"Where are you holding this event?" asked Logan of MacFarland, then mouthing the word, 'pen', to Max.  
  
"It will be at my estate, 402 Oceanview Terrace."  
  
Logan repeated the address so that Max could write it down.  
  
"Excellent," said the older man, and for the moment, Logan could imagine him rubbing his hands with glee, "I'll be expecting you then. Anytime after eight."  
  
Logan looked at Max as MacFarland hung up, putting the phone down next to him on the table.  
  
"What was that all about?" asked Max.  
  
"I've been invited to an 'Information night' about the forestry industry."  
  
She made a face. "I take it we're going?"  
  
"Well, 'I'm' going."  
  
"You wouldn't leave your 'research assistant' behind?"  
  
"No, I've got some 'researching' in mind for you."  
  
***************************************************  
  
The phone call seemed to put Logan in a slightly better mood, and he managed to get through the rest of his reps without incurring a disapproving look from Bling.  
  
After a shower, he was back at his computer, once more hacking into Carmichael Logging and Byron/Phillip Pharmaceuticals, trying to find possible sites where the vigilante team may be holed up while in Seattle.  
  
All day the news reported the 'tragic death' of reporter, Melody Banks, announcing that a young woman in a black catsuit was required for questioning in regard to the incident.  
  
Max was ready to throw the TV through the window when she heard the news presenter announce the possible theory that Eyes Only had killed Melody in order to silence her.  
  
"I'm gonna do some frickin' 'silencing'," she fumed, turning it off with a very deliberate push on the remote button. Where was this going to end?  
  
Logan made no comment when the report was run, other than, "It figures."  
  
Max thought that was a bad sign.  
  
She watched him throughout the afternoon as he chased the information he was after, intently studying the screen hour after hour, his fingers flying over the keys, a frown rarely absent from his face.  
  
Bling had left long ago, and now Max sat by the large windows as the evening crept in, steadily darkening the apartment.  
  
She had just heated up some left over dinner for them from the night before, when Logan came out, a sheet of paper on his knee.  
  
"This is all I can find," he announced to her.  
  
"You found some sites?"  
  
"Well, possible sites," he replied. "I was hoping you'd be able to check 'em out after the meeting at MacFarland's.  
  
"Sounds good. I 'made' us dinner."  
  
"Impressive. It's amazing what you can do with a microwave."  
  
Max smiled as she carried their dinner through to the table. His black mood seemed to have lifted.  
  
"You got any scheme for tonight at MacFarland's?" she asked him a short time later, between mouthfuls of dinner.  
  
"I think I'm goin' for the 'approach the lion in his den scheme'," he replied.  
  
"In other words, you don't have a scheme," she stated flatly.  
  
"I wouldn't quite say that. I'm hoping you'll get a chance to do some snooping."  
  
"What will you be doing?"  
  
"I'll be learning everything I can about re-forestation, of course."  
  
**************************************************  
  
Stuart MacFarland's house was nothing short of magnificent, from the white Corinthian columns, to the black and white marble tiled entrance, complete with an enormous chandelier that faced the curved divided staircase.  
  
With a sideways glance at Logan, Max murmured, "This might even be out of your league."  
  
At the door, they were met by MacFarland himself, who appeared to be a most attentive, urbane host. He was a handsome man, with hazel eyes, and a very distinguished head of silvery hair.  
  
"Logan, I'm so glad you could make it. I'm sure you'll find this a most informative evening."  
  
"I'm sure I will," replied Logan easily. "Have you met my ... assistant," he said after a slight pause.  
  
Max held out her hand, introducing herself simply as "Max."  
  
"I'm charmed, my dear, charmed. If I had an assistant like you, I don't think I'd get 'any' work done."  
  
"How sweet of you," smiled Max, playing her part.  
  
"Come now, you must meet my sons," continued MacFarland, as if nothing could possibly give him greater pleasure, leading them through to another of the sumptuous rooms on the ground floor.  
  
There were a lot of people at the event, but because the rooms were so large, it was anything but congested.  
  
Logan let Max and MacFarland go before him, then followed them into the other room where he found a comprehensive rundown of the logging industry mounted on boards around the room.  
  
"Byron, Phillip," he suddenly called to two young men who had been speaking to two attractive girls at the other end of the room. By the look of them, Logan couldn't imagine they were there to learn about re-forestation.  
  
"My sons," said MacFarland proudly, indicating Byron on the left, Phillip on the right.  
  
Both looked to be somewhere in their mid twenties, but what was so striking about them both was their perfect features. Neither had a hair out of place, their teeth when they smiled were incredibly white and even, noses straight, jaws firm. Logan thought there was something almost uncanny about them  
  
"How do you do," each brother said to him. Reaching out, he shook their hands.  
  
He saw their first flicker of emotion when they turned to greet Max, but then, Logan would have been surprised it he 'didn't' see a flicker of emotion on meeting her.  
  
Stuart MacFarland was obviously a very proud father, and on appearance, he certainly had every right to be.  
  
At that point, MacFarland called him over to show him some of the details on the board, explaining the company's policy towards re-forestation.  
  
"I hear there're a lot of problems in the industry, with unscrupulous players," remarked Logan.  
  
He saw a dark look cross the handsome face.  
  
"There are a lot of problems everywhere," Logan added, hoping to press his advantage.  
  
MacFarland unfortunately seemed to have himself well in hand. "Yes. I was just commenting on that very point to your Uncle."  
  
"It's so hard for the ordinary person to do something," continued Logan, leaning back to look up into MacFarland's face. It was at times like this the disadvantage of sitting, when others were standing, particularly irked him.  
  
Sensing that MacFarland wasn't going to take the bait, he tried a different tack. "You have a very beautiful home here, two handsome sons. Some would almost say perfect."  
  
The older man suddenly beamed at him. "You're an astute man, Logan. You're quite right. I admire perfection. I crave perfect symmetry in my life."  
  
"That's kind of a tall order, isn't it?' queried Logan, carefully.  
  
"You only achieve in life what you strive for," he replied quickly, as if it were a well-used proverb to live by.  
  
Logan nodded, wheeling back a little to improve his angle. "Well, I think it's good to have an ideal, it just depends on what you have to do to achieve it."  
  
Max walked up to Logan at that point, timing it to hear MacFarland say, "Oh I'll do 'anything' to achieve my ideals," as he looked at Logan very seriously. "Make no mistake on 'that'. You see, the world doesn't believe that perfection is possible. I believe we at least have to strive for it."  
  
"Whatever the cost?" questioned Logan.  
  
MacFarland laughed suddenly, as if aware of the trap that was being sprung.  
  
"I think Jonas mentioned something about your bulldog qualities to me."  
  
Logan smiled politely, as MacFarland walked away saying, "Of course, if there's anything else you need to know, by all means, just ask me."  
  
Max turned around to one of the boards, and looked to be reading avidly. As soon as MacFarland was out of earshot, she said to Logan quietly, "We just hit paydirt."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I saw Byron MacFarland at the market, seconds before the bomb warning," said Max tersely, at the same time pointing out to Logan something on one of the boards.  
  
"You're sure?" asked Logan, thinking quickly.  
  
"You think I'd forget a face like that?"  
  
"We gotta talk to him," said Logan, ignoring her comment. "D'you think he remembers you?"  
  
"I'm not sure. Maybe he does, but he can't remember from where," answered Max, musingly.  
  
"We need to get him alone, preferably away from the house. We can't be sure it's not bugged," said Logan quietly, moving on to the next board explaining the wonders of Carmichael Logging's plans for the future of the timber industry.  
  
Max looked around. The ground floor rooms were crowded with people, and upstairs was out of the question for Logan. It was almost insufferably warm in the house, and someone had opened a couple of the French doors that led out on to a wide stone-flagged terrace, overlooking the exquisitely laid out, floodlit gardens.  
  
"Wait for me out there," she motioned to Logan.  
  
"You sure you can get him to come?""  
  
"Do pigs fly?" she asked, throwing him a sexy smile over her shoulder.  
  
Byron MacFarland would probably follow her into hell itself when she smiled like that, Logan thought, as he made his way out to the terrace.  
  
He hadn't been there long when Max came out, true to her word, followed by Byron MacFarland.  
  
He seemed surprised to see Logan, which made Logan wonder, with an inward smile, what tale Max had spun to get him out there.  
  
Without preamble, Max said quietly, "I saw you at the market. You dropped the warning about the bomb."  
  
Byron looked from one to the other, a trace of fear in his unbelievably blue eyes.  
  
He still held himself together, but they could both see he was very scared.  
  
"Why did you do it?" asked Logan.  
  
Byron looked around, as if he were expecting someone to jump out from behind the bushes.  
  
"We need your help," pressed Logan. "Innocent people, families with children, could have been killed yesterday if it weren't for your action."  
  
"I can't help you," said the young man, almost pleadingly. "I've got to go. I can't be seen here talking to you."  
  
As he went to step away, Max blocked his path.  
  
"Byron, you've proven that you don't buy into this vigilante scheme of your father's," Logan told him, throwing caution to the wind and speaking out his suspicions. "With your help, we could make sure that no one else gets killed."  
  
"You just don't get it, do you? The only way to stop my father would be to kill him. He's obsessed with all this. He's been planning it ever since my mother died. He told Phillip and me that it was the only way to preserve her memory." He stopped for a moment, his voice low, speaking like someone who'd been under a great strain for a long time. "He said it would ensure that she didn't die in vain."  
  
Wheeling closer, Logan said to him urgently, "She will have died in vain if you don't stop your father."  
  
"I can't believe your mother raised you to be a homicidal maniac," said Max bluntly.  
  
At the mention of his mother's name, she could see his eyes fill with unshed tears.  
  
Max's words seemed to break him completely. He looked like a man who had been existing under incredible stress.  
  
"Byron, will you help us?" asked Max.  
  
He looked up as if he hadn't heard her. "My mother was ..." Struggling to find the right words, he finished simply with, "She would have been ashamed."  
  
"Can you meet with us later tonight?" asked Logan, keen to get a commitment from him in case he changed his mind.  
  
"No, no way, not tonight. They knew you were coming. They were waiting."  
  
Max looked quickly at Logan, who didn't seem to be particularly shaken by the news.  
  
"What did they have planned?" Max almost snapped at him.  
  
Byron turned to Logan. "Nothing, I think. They just wanted to check you out. Find out if you were genuinely interested in logging."  
  
"Well, they only had to ask," answered Logan flippantly.  
  
"I'll meet you tomorrow," Byron said, very much in the manner of one who has just made an enormous decision that may well affect him for the rest of his life - which was exactly what he did just do. "9am. Danny's Diner."  
  
Logan and Max nodded. It was a well-known diner down by the wharf.  
  
While he would have preferred something a bit sooner, Logan mused he'd have to be content with that. "You go back in with Max," he told Byron, "I'll follow in a minute."  
  
With a smile, Logan could hear Max saying, "I think trees are fascinating."  
  
****************************************************  
  
It's likely Max would have been more fascinated by a conversation that was currently drawing to a close in Stuart MacFarland's security room on the second floor.  
  
Banks of monitors, reflecting the pictures from the many surveillance cameras around the house and grounds, surrounded the people in the room. They, however, were not looking at the monitors, instead they were intent on listening to a conversation that had just concluded on the terrace.  
  
"Well gentlemen, this forces our hand, unfortunately," remarked Stuart MacFarland, apparently not particularly surprised by his son's words.  
  
It's likely Byron MacFarland would have been more discreet if he'd known the tie pin his father had thoughtfully given him, was in fact, a miniature bugging device.  
  
The only people in the room were Stuart MacFarland, Theodore Durant, and MacFarland's head of security, known only as Fleischer.  
  
Theodore Durant, a thin sheen of sweat coating his face, looked at MacFarland. "This is bad, Mac. How did this Cale link any of this to you?"  
  
MacFarland looked thoughtful. "The man's a journalist, beyond that, I don't have a clue."  
  
"He has to be stopped. We've planned too long for this!" spoke Durant determinedly. "And what are you going to do about Byron?"  
  
"I can handle Byron. He's not a problem," replied MacFarland, supremely confident, but sounding disappointed with his son's defection, nonetheless.  
  
Turning to Fleischer, his decision having been made, he said, "Quick, follow me. We'll have to do this now."  
  
*********************************************  
  
Logan waited a few minutes before he followed Max back into the room, joining her as she stood in front of an enormous screen, which was showing a documentary on the logging industry.  
  
"If I hafta look at another tree tonight, I just might chop it down myself," she grumbled to Logan.  
  
"Well, I'd say we're just about done here," Logan replied, looking around the room for their host. "Can you see MacFarland anywhere?"  
  
Max shook her head. "I was thinkin' while I'm here I should visit the little girl's room."  
  
Logan looked at her, a hesitant look on his face. "I think we should get outta here. We've done what we wanted to, and they've got security cameras comin' outta the woodwork."  
  
"Seems a pity not to check out what's on the second floor," insisted Max.  
  
"Okay, but don't take any chances. We can't afford to slip up now."  
  
Logan watched her as she went upstairs, already regretting his decision. He had a sudden sense of urgency that they should get out of there.  
  
Refusing several offers of drinks or food, he made his way to the grand entrance to wait for Max there, as he'd have a clear sight of her as she came down the stairs.  
  
Yet another waiter approached him with an offer of a drink, which Logan, once again, politely refused.  
  
Logan, looking at the staircase, had just caught a glimpse of Max coming back down, when he became aware of the waiter apologizing profusely, having managed to somehow spill the contents of one of the glasses of wine onto his knee and the lower half of his leg.  
  
"It's fine," said Logan, putting out a hand to tell the waiter not to bother.  
  
"I'm terribly sorry, sir. Let me just wipe some of it from you," said the waiter at once, head down, apparently very embarrassed by the event, and quickly removing the damask napkin that had been folded over his arm, he began to wipe at Logan's pant leg to remove as much of the wine as possible.  
  
At that moment, MacFarland himself called over to Logan, expressing his own apologies. Logan, who was becoming more and more annoyed by having so much attention drawn to him, immediately said, "Please, there's no harm done. We were just leaving anyway."  
  
Max, coming down the stairs, had by this time caught a little of the action around Logan, and being quite sure he would like to be rescued, called to him as she came across the marble tiles.  
  
"I'm ready to go now, Logan."  
  
Breathing a sigh of relief, Logan said a quick goodbye to MacFarland, thankful the waiter had gone to attack some other unwitting guest, and left with Max.  
  
**********************************************  
  
Fleischer, still in his waiter's uniform, watched with MacFarland from the study window, as the Aztek drove down the driveway.  
  
"What about the girl?" he asked his boss.  
  
MacFarland sighed. "She's very beautiful, almost exquisite. We can always deal with her later if we have to."  
  
TBC 


	16. Into the Night

Thanks again to all those who were kind enough to review – it's very much appreciated and very inspiring!!!  
  
Thanks once again to my beta, Alaidh who has been rewarded in this chapter for her efforts!!  
  
Chapter 16  
  
"So, did you find anything upstairs?" asked Logan, as they drove away.  
  
"Uh uh, you were right. They had more cameras than bathrooms up there, and they had a 'lotta' bathrooms."  
  
Logan looked at her curiously.  
  
"Well, every time someone stopped me, I said I was lookin' for the bathroom," she explained ingeniously, smiling brilliantly at him. "Tonight went well," she added contentedly.  
  
"I'll feel better when we talk to Byron in the morning. Wish we'd been able to make it for tonight," he mused aloud.  
  
"He sure was messed up," said Max quietly, thinking back to their conversation with Byron.  
  
"I just hope he doesn't bail out on us, that's all," worried Logan, slowing down to stop at a set of lights.  
  
Max was feeling good with the world. "Not everybody is like Melody," she said without thinking.  
  
Logan's silence hit her like a brick wall.  
  
"So, you got that list for me back at your crib?" she asked, hoping to cover the moment.  
  
After a slight pause he answered, "Yeah. There's at least four that are good candidates for housing MacFarland's vigilantes. It's probably gonna take you a while, the four are spread all over Seattle."  
  
"On the bright side, it'll make the night pass quickly." Max was determined to stay cheerful.  
  
******************************************  
  
Once back at Logan's, Max changed into her black catsuit, while Logan called up each site to show her on the computer.  
  
Coming noiselessly back into his study, she walked in to find him with his glasses off and rubbing his temples.  
  
Catching sight of her, he put his glasses back on, saying, "Here's site 'A'. It's an old warehouse, currently owned by Byron/Phillips. According to the company's records, a security guard checks it twice a night, no fixed time."  
  
Max nodded.  
  
"Site 'B'," Logan continued, "is a three acre property, used to be some sort of a guest house from what I can gather, and I don't have any security details at all for that one."  
  
"Site C?" asked Max, standing close to him on his right, her right hand on the desk as she leant forward to look at the screen.  
  
"'C', Logan," she repeated, waiting for the next screen to come up. "I gotta do this 'tonight', not tomorrow."  
  
"Site 'C', another warehouse, down by the wharf this time. Definitely security checks, once again, no set time."  
  
"Three down, one to go," Max popped in.  
  
"I hope you're taking this seriously," Logan said, mildly rebuking her.  
  
"Don't I always?" Max said, turning her head to smile at him.  
  
Meeting her eyes with his own slightly cynical ones, Logan called up the details of the last site.  
  
"Site 'D'," piped in Max, mimicking his tone.  
  
"Site 'D', "Logan repeated, slightly louder and narrowing his eyes at her to show his annoyance when he was being serious.  
  
"Is another warehouse," Max guessed, trying to beat him to it.  
  
"Is a disused 'factory'," shooting her a look of triumph this time, "owned by a subsidiary of Carmichael Logging."  
  
"Security checks, twice nightly, no set time?" Max tried again, deliberately provoking him.  
  
"Actually, security officer on site, 24/7," he finished smoothly.  
  
Max turned around to him. "You just got lucky," she excused her own performance.  
  
"'You' are a sore loser," he accused her mildly, unlocking his brakes to give her the print outs of each of the sites.  
  
"I'm a sore loser?" she went to say, about to take the printouts Logan was handing her, when he stopped suddenly.  
  
"Are you okay?" she asked.  
  
Recovering quickly, he said. "I'm fine ... really," he added, as she still regarded him, handing her the printouts this time.  
  
"You need to get going," he urged her. "You'll need to be done before daybreak."  
  
Max considered him for a moment.  
  
"I'll have breakfast waiting for you when ya get back. So don't be late!" he threatened her.  
  
With a slight smile, she grabbed her jacket, and headed for the door.  
  
******************************************************  
  
Logan sat, chin in hand, staring at his computer, in his darkened apartment, most of the light coming from his computer screen as he continued his search into the activities of Stuart MacFarland.  
  
Max had been gone two hours now, and Logan felt a familiar tension.  
  
His body seemed to be screaming at him to go to bed, but he felt sure that once there, sleep would be a million miles away.  
  
"So, you haven't pulled this together yet," said a voice to his left.  
  
Turning his head quickly, Logan looked up to see Zack.  
  
"Guess not," replied Logan, unlocking his brakes and turning around to face him.  
  
"Max here?" the X5 asked, a slight edge to his voice.  
  
"She's out doin' some recon for me," responded Logan, wondering why Zack had shown up again.  
  
As if having read his mind, Zack said, "It's been in all the news that a girl in a black catsuit was wanted for questioning over the death of Melody Banks."  
  
"And?" asked Logan, in a neutral tone.  
  
"Snapped neck, black catsuit," said Zack, "has me thinking Manticore."  
  
"Or maybe you think that 'I' sent 'Max' to kill her."  
  
Zack shook his head at that. "I know you'd never do that," he said simply.  
  
"Well, that's refreshing," said Logan mildly, "So, why did you come?"  
  
"We both know it's dangerous for Max if Manticore is involved. Thought she might need my help."  
  
He waited some time for Logan to answer.  
  
"I need some coffee," said Logan eventually. "You want one?" he asked, wheeling himself through to the kitchen, and turning on the lights.  
  
Zack, following him, was surprised to see him stop. He heard something that sounded like a stifled grunt of pain.  
  
"Are you all right?" he asked hesitantly, knowing that Logan had had trouble in the past, and not sure know if this was some ongoing problem that Logan may prefer he didn't mention.  
  
Not answering immediately, Logan eventually said, "I'm fine. Must have been something I ate."  
  
"I'll boil the water for the drinks," said Zack, walking past him to get the kettle.  
  
"I think I might pass on the drink," Logan struggled to reply, swallowing hard. He could see Zack looking at him, and his only thought was to appear as normal as possible wishing that Zack were anywhere but there in front of him.  
  
Suddenly the pain stabbed at him again, sharper this time and he had to bite down hard on his lip to keep quiet.  
  
Beginning to feel really quite strange, Logan became aware of Zack standing over him.  
  
"There's something wrong," he stated to Logan, a hint of concern in his voice.  
  
Whatever it was, it was hitting Logan fast, because now he was barely able to look up at Zack.  
  
Logan felt the first inklings of fear, thinking back to the time he'd collapsed before and wondering if this could be the same thing. It certainly didn't feel like it.  
  
He heard Zack speaking to him. Trying to concentrate, he struggled to focus and process the words he knew Zack was saying, but he could feel himself slipping further away.  
  
********************************************************  
  
Max was quite pleased with her progress. She had managed to check two of the sites on Logan's list without meeting any opposition, which was probably due to the fact that both sites were exactly what Logan had said they were: disused warehouses, and they were both, clearly still disused.  
  
The next site she was about to check out was the old guesthouse. This was a little further out of town, but she had a good feel about this one, so she'd decided to do it third.  
  
Thankfully, it was a dry night, and she was thinking if they all turned out to be duds, she'd be back for breakfast in record time. In fact, she doubted Logan would even be awake considering how tired he had looked when she left.  
  
Stopping at a crossroad to double-check her route, she was surprised to hear her pager go off. She smiled to herself, wondering if it was Logan checking up on her, although he didn't usually call when she was out on recon.  
  
Checking the readout, she was very surprised to find that it was not Logan, but Zack.  
  
What was he doing back in Seattle?  
  
Max sat on her bike, very still, staring into the distance. She suddenly felt very uneasy.  
  
She remembered passing a diner about two miles back and making a quick decision; she decided to go back there and see if they had a phone.  
  
Max was only a short way from the diner when she saw the neon sign announcing its name to the world go black.  
  
Cursing her bad luck, she revved harder, breaking several road rules in her attempt to get to the diner before the owner left.  
  
When she pulled up outside the diner, she was relieved to see a man inside, sweeping the floor.  
  
"Impressive," she murmured, thinking you didn't see that too often nowadays in some of these rundown places.  
  
Quickly swinging a leg over her bike, she hurried to the door, relieved to find it was still unlocked.  
  
As she stepped inside, the man, who looked to be in his fifties, looked up as if he were going to yell at her, but on seeing a strikingly attractive girl, he obviously thought better of it.  
  
"Sorry, I can see you're closed, but I really need to use a phone. You got one anywhere?" asked Max, flashing one of her 'sure to please' smiles at the man.  
  
It seemed to work, because he straightened up and said, "Sure thing, over there in the corner."  
  
Thanking him with another megawatt smile, she took out the required coins, and dialled the number Zack had left on her pager.  
  
It was picked up almost immediately by Zack himself.  
  
"Zack, what are you doin' back in Seattle?"  
  
In a manner very unlike Zack, she noticed a slight hesitancy in his voice.  
  
"Max, it's Logan."  
  
Three words were all it took for something icy cold to wrap itself around her heart and slowly squeeze it with a constricting tightness.  
  
"What's happened?" she asked, immediately thinking of MacFarland.  
  
"I'm not quite sure. You'd better get over here. I've got him at Metro Medical."  
  
Without another word, she hung up, her only thought being to get to Logan.  
  
The man sweeping the floor cast a look in her direction.  
  
"Not bad news I hope," he said kindly, seeing the stricken look on her face.  
  
Max mumbled something in reply, and made her way out to her motorbike, the words of Stuart MacFarland echoing in her mind – "I'll do anything to achieve my ideals."  
  
"Did that include ...?" Clamping down hard on the thought, she drove with single-minded purpose to the hospital.  
  
The main entrance was closed this time of night, so she headed straight for the Emergency Department.  
  
It seemed to be a busy night, or maybe they were always like this, as an assortment of generally unhappy looking people sat wherever there was a spare seat, or even space on the floor.  
  
People with tired faces, worried faces, ill faces, all waiting for the interminable line to finally go down so that their name could be called.  
  
Max stepped over some of them to make her way to the front desk, where a nurse on duty, looking as tired as the faces around her, put her head up as Max approached.  
  
"Can I help you?" she asked, in the manner of one well used to dealing with distraught relatives.  
  
"A friend of mine was brought in. Logan Cale."  
  
"When would that have been dear?"  
  
Max thought frantically. "I'm not sure. Maybe an hour ago or less."  
  
She saw a look on the nurses face that she couldn't quite read as the woman consulted her computer.  
  
Her eyes went to Max again.  
  
"Are you a relative?" she asked, not unkindly.  
  
Oh God, thought Max, why are they asking that? It must mean it's something serious.  
  
The nurse took one look at Max's face and knew she was more than just a friend.  
  
Gently squeezing Max's hands that gripped the counter, she said, "He's in ICU, third floor."  
  
Managing to stumble out, "Thank you," Max left the kind woman behind and went to navigate the hospital corridors, following the signs that read, Intensive Care Unit.  
  
Ping.  
  
The elevator doors opened, and with relief, the first person she saw was Zack.  
  
"What happened? Where is he?" were her first words.  
  
Zack motioned towards one of the doors. "They're working on him in there."  
  
Holding herself in control, but her dark eyes looking unnaturally wide, she shot out, "Tell me what happened."  
  
For once, Zack didn't have an answer to give her. "I turned up at his apartment ......... looking for you," he added, a little self-consciously. "Logan was talking to me one minute, the next he was ..." he stopped at that, not wanting her to know the state Logan had been in.  
  
"Have you seen the doctors?" Max asked, unable to keep the worried tone from her voice.  
  
Zack shook his head. "They started working on him as soon as I brought him in."  
  
Max stared intently at the doors that led to where Logan lay.  
  
"You don't have X-ray vision," Zack told her with the smallest of smiles.  
  
Max looked to him, unseeingly at first, then she said determinedly, "I've gotta find out what's happening."  
  
As if in answer to her prayer, a doctor came out that she recognized. It was Sam Carr, Logan's doctor, who Max remembered from the day she had transfused Logan with her own blood.  
  
She wasn't entirely sure how Logan had explained that whole episode to him, but looking at him now, she had a terrible sense of déjà vu.  
  
Seeing her, the doctor came directly towards her and Zack.  
  
Max just stared at him, for once her genetically engineered bravery deserting her.  
  
Sam gave her a gentle smile, then said without preamble, "I think we got him in time. We'll need to keep an eye on him for a while, but I'm reasonably confident he's going to fully recover."  
  
Max felt an unimaginable relief sweep through her, for the moment not caring who knew how she felt.  
  
Surprised to find her eyes blurring, she blinked rapidly a few times, before managing to say, "Can I see him?"  
  
Sam looked at her, and said in his kind manner, "Logan's been heavily sedated. He won't know much for a while yet."  
  
"What was wrong with him?" asked Max, finding that her mind was beginning to think a little clearer.  
  
Sam looked from Max to Zack, shaking his head slightly as he spoke. "It was touch and go for a while there," he admitted. "At first I thought Logan had the classic symptoms of some type of poison, but after some blood tests we discovered it was one of those new lethal drugs that are flooding the market. They're hard to detect because they mask themselves by other symptoms."  
  
"How was it administered?" asked Zack.  
  
Sam shook his head again. "It certainly wasn't ingested. I would say by syringe." The doctor looked at Max purposefully as he spoke, his blue eyes meeting hers. "This was no accident, someone meant to do Logan harm," he finished seriously.  
  
Max returned his look. "I'll keep that in mind," she told him.  
  
Holding her gaze for a moment, the doctor then turned his attention to Zack. "You're the one who brought him in?"  
  
Zack nodded briefly.  
  
"You did a good job. Probably saved his life."  
  
Max looked at Zack suddenly and smiled.  
  
At that point, Max noticed another two nurses came out from Logan's room.  
  
Seeing her look, Sam said in his calm way, "You can go in now."  
  
Without hesitation, Max headed straight for the room, stopping on the threshold as she entered. Logan was hooked up to various machines, and an IV was inserted in his arm.  
  
Her eyes went to his face that was very white against the pillows.  
  
Max sat by him on a chair that was next to the bed, a small frown on her face. It was upsetting to see him like this, when only a few hours ago she'd been joking with him at his apartment.  
  
Her eyes suddenly went to Zack, who was standing at the end of the bed watching her.  
  
"Thank you," she said deliberately, giving him a serious smile.  
  
Turning back to Logan, she pulled back the blanket from the end of the bed, exposing the bottom part of his leg.  
  
"What are you doing?" asked Zack.  
  
"I'm checking to see how MacFarland injected this bitch into Logan."  
  
******************************************  
  
"I can't leave you alone for a minute, can I?"  
  
Logan looked at her confusedly.  
  
"You're in the hospital. Zack brought you in. I don't wanna sound melodramatic or anything, but he probably saved your life," Max added warmly.  
  
Logan continued to squint at her. He wanted to say something, but even the act of swallowing was a huge effort.  
  
Feeling like he'd come into a complex movie half way through, Logan looked around, grimacing when he saw the IV in his arm.  
  
"Zack?" Logan managed to ask. This was getting weirder by the minute, he thought.  
  
"MacFarland injected you with some drug that would have shut down your whole system. Remember, at MacFarland's, the waiter who spilled the drink on you?"  
  
Slowly things were coming back. It seemed like days ago, but Logan could remember the incident. He nodded at Max.  
  
"The whole thing was a scam Logan. The waiter must have injected the stuff into your leg when he was supposedly wiping the wine or whatever off." The tone and look on Max's face boded ill for that waiter if she ever came across him again. "I got Sam to check your leg. We think we found the entrance point where it was a bit inflamed."  
  
"I remember driving home with you ... " muttered Logan vaguely.  
  
"I went off to check the sites, and Zack showed up at your place lookin' for me. Just as well he did too."  
  
A movement at the door made them both look up to see Sam Carr coming in.  
  
He looked Logan over with a professional eye. "You're looking a lot better," he smiled.  
  
Max handed Logan his glasses. He put them on, and with one of his ironic smiles, said to Sam, "When can I get outta here?"  
  
Sam raised his eyebrows at the comment, regarding Logan with an amused expression as he proceeded to check his blood pressure.  
  
"Your vitals are good. I want to keep you in here for observation."  
  
"And?" asked Logan, not impressed so far.  
  
Sam considered him for a moment. "I'll make a decision on that this afternoon."  
  
Logan sighed slightly and raised his eyes to study the ceiling.  
  
"Logan, your body's going to need time to recover from this, and I want to be sure the drug is out of your system, so you're going to have to be a little bit patient." He then added with a grin, "I know that will be a challenge for you, but I see you're in good hands." He smiled at Max as he went out.  
  
Logan moodily regarded the IV in his arm.  
  
Hospitals. He hated everything about them: the food, the smell, the needles, the tests, the list was endless.  
  
Max watched him, the hint of a smile playing on her lips. A grumpy Logan was far better than no Logan at all.  
  
She was just about to say something to him when a nurse bustled in.  
  
"We need to change your position Mr Cale," she announced to the world in that loud, bright, efficient, straightforward manner sometimes found in nurses, that either annoys the hell out of you, or makes you cower in submission.  
  
On Logan it definitely had the former effect.  
  
Seeing the look on his face, Max excused herself, saying she'd be waiting outside for him.  
  
With a smile on her face, she heard the nurse say in her bracing manner as she surveyed her patient, "Now, would you like to shave Mr Cale?"  
  
"How's he doing?" asked Zack, sitting in a chair against the wall opposite Logan's room. It was no accident it gave him an extensive view of all people coming and going from both directions.  
  
"He's real grumpy," said Max with a wide grin.  
  
Zack wasn't sure what there was to be happy in that, but he was glad to see Max smiling.  
  
"Nothing suspicious out here?" she asked Zack, her own eyes doing a sweep of the area.  
  
"Not so far."  
  
Max sat down next to Zack. Stretching her own legs out in front of her, she allowed herself to relax for a minute, reflecting on the night's events with something like a sigh. She didn't like to think about how close she may have been to losing Logan.  
  
One thing she knew for sure, she was now, more than ever, determined to take MacFarland down.  
  
Looking at her watch, she saw it was ten past eight, and with Logan out of immediate danger, she was definitely starting to feel hungry. "You want some breakfast?" she asked Zack.  
  
He nodded. "There's a cafeteria on the fifth floor."  
  
Just then the door of Logan's room opened, and the efficient nurse bustled out again.  
  
Max looked at Zack. "I'd really like to stretch my legs..."  
  
"Sure, I'll wait here while you get something," he agreed.  
  
Max hesitated, looking towards Logan's room. "D'you mind?" she asked, her face screwed up as if she didn't want to ask, "I'd feel happier if you were in there with him."  
  
Zack simply said, "Okay, fine by me."  
  
********************************************************  
  
Logan was lying on his side when Zack went in, facing the window, his eyes closed, apparently asleep.  
  
Zack had just sat down in the chair Max had vacated, when he was aware of the green eyes looking at him.  
  
"How're you doin'?" asked Zack.  
  
Logan looked at him, then said thoughtfully, "I feel like I've got the worst hangover I've ever had."  
  
"Without the fun," commiserated Zack.  
  
Logan looked away for a moment, then coming back to Zack he said, "I believe I owe you one."  
  
Zack shrugged, saying easily, "It was self preservation. I figured Max'd kick my ass if I let something happen to you."  
  
Logan smiled a little at his words.  
  
"Be that as it may, I want you to know, I'm ...grateful," he finished.  
  
Zack looked up to see Max returning, which made Logan look over his shoulder.  
  
"Did they bring you some breakfast?" she asked Logan.  
  
He simply pointed to the chart on the end of his bed that read, "nothing by mouth."  
  
Max made a face. "Ouch."  
  
"I don't think I'll be missing out on much," he replied in one of his dry tones.  
  
Max went over to Zack and gave him his breakfast, and then turned her attention to Logan as she sat down in the other chair.  
  
Surprised, she noticed the nurse had been able to talk him into a shave.  
  
"You're beginning to look more human," she complimented him admiringly.  
  
"Mmm," replied Logan, finding that talking was very tiring.  
  
Max looked at her watch again, wondering if he was up to bothering about anything, but her action made him remember anyway.  
  
"What's the time?" he asked her.  
  
"It's eight-thirty," she answered unwillingly.  
  
Logan closed his eyes momentarily as he said, "We were meant to meet Byron at nine."  
  
"I doubt very much if he'll be there," she answered him.  
  
Logan opened his eyes and began looking around. "Where's my chair? I gotta get outta here."  
  
"Logan, you're not thinking straight. If MacFarland did this to you, the chances are he knows about Byron too."  
  
"We can't be sure of that," he argued.  
  
"I don't like ta state the obvious here, but you have a drip in your arm, and it's highly unlikely you can even sit up."  
  
"We have to 'try'," Logan said quietly. He didn't have the strength to snap at her, but the thought of getting Byron MacFarland killed weighed heavily on him. He felt that he'd already failed with Melody and now he didn't want another death on his conscience.  
  
Max looked at him. "I've spent some time thinking about it. I'll go to the diner, just in case he's there."  
  
Logan put his hand up to his eyes and closed them, trying to think. He knew that there was something wrong with this plan, but very much like Eyes Only's problems, his mind seemed to have turned completely to mud.  
  
"Logan?" asked Max, a little concerned for him.  
  
Logan nodded. "Just do it," he said.  
  
TBC 


	17. All good

Chapter 17  
  
Max took a long, deep breath as she went outside, for once not annoyed by the rain, or the sector cop who complained about her bike being parked where it was, or the fact that the coffee she'd bought in the cafeteria had been cold, and the muffin had tasted like it was at least five days old.  
  
"Sweet," she thought to herself as she surveyed the rain, and the muddy roads, and the trash scattered on the ground - probably by some dog. No, it was 'all good', she thought, compared to what the sunrise 'could' have brought her.  
  
Nothing like facing a possible disaster to give you an appreciation for the everyday annoyances of life. At that moment, she felt that it could rain every day for a year and she wouldn't give a damn.  
  
Max had contacted Bling, and had left it in his hands for him to bring to the hospital anything Logan would need, and Zack had promised to sit with Logan while she was gone. She was still worried about how far MacFarland would go in achieving his ends.  
  
The morning traffic was still quite heavy, but she was confident she would get to the diner by 9 am – the question was, what would she do when she got there?  
  
The attack on Logan had proven that MacFarland had gone beyond the merely suspicious stage, and had seen Logan as a threat to his plans. Where did that leave his son, she wondered? Like Logan, she had no desire to see Byron killed because they had coerced him into helping them.  
  
Reaching the diner, she looked around cautiously before getting off her bike. There was no sign of anyone suspicious.  
  
The diner itself was a long, rectangular affair, with a long counter running the length of it, lined with a row of rickety stools. Opposite the long counter, a series of tables lined the walls, where the paint had long ago given up any attempt to stay adhered to the plaster.  
  
Opening the door, Max looked in to find the diner was virtually deserted. Not unexpectedly, of Byron MacFarland there was no sign.  
  
With a quick glance at her watch, she noted the time was exactly 9 am. If Byron was anything like his father, she suspected that punctuality would be one of his character traits.  
  
Max looked carefully at the diner's occupants. There were two men seated at one table, and another man on one of the stools at the counter. All three were dressed in jeans, pea coats and wool caps as if they worked on the wharf.  
  
At this point, Max was prepared to be suspicious of anyone.  
  
As she took a step inside, she noticed the man behind the counter closely scrutinizing her and then she was surprised to see an almost imperceptible nod in her direction.  
  
Playing it cool, she walked up to the counter and ordered a coffee. "Make it hot," she added.  
  
Feeling slightly on edge, she thanked the man for the coffee when he brought it, pleased to see the steam coming off it.  
  
As she handed the money over, the man's eyes momentarily darted down in a meaningful way towards the coffee, then he thanked her as if nothing had happened.  
  
"Thanks," she said, picking up the hot mug in her right hand, while her left pocketed the small piece of paper that had been tucked beneath it.  
  
The coffee was hot as promised, and she was enjoying the scalding liquid as it slipped down her throat, for the moment wondering how Logan was doing, when she caught one of the men at the table looking her way.  
  
She'd only seen that face very briefly, in the dark, once before, but Max was trained to remember faces, particularly faces that had had their hands at Logan's throat.  
  
Schooling her features to not betray her, she suspected nonetheless that suspicions had been raised.  
  
More desperate than ever to get out of there and read the note unhindered, she regretfully put down her coffee, and proceeded to saunter out of the diner towards the front door.  
  
Immediately the men at the table followed, but Max continued on at the same pace, opening the heavy door and closing it behind her as she felt the men approaching at a faster rate.  
  
Standing outside the door, her hand on the handle, she waited until she felt the first sign of movement to open the door from the other side.  
  
The two men following her were stunned to find the door suddenly open on them with a force wiw which knocked them backwards.  
  
Satisfied, Max ran towards her bike, but before she was half-way there, the third man who had been sitting at the counter, came from around the back of the building, with the obvious intention of cutting her off.  
  
Instead, Max veered in his direction, coming at him with a flying kick that knocked him flat on his back, sliding gracefully along the ground to land in a heap against the wall.  
  
The delay gave the other two enough time to come from the diner, and now they came rushing at Max.  
  
Max stood and waited for them to come at her, an annoyed look on her face. "You made me ditch my coffee – and it was hot!"  
  
Apparently neither man realized what a serious mistake this was, because with self-assured smiles, they both continued to come at her.  
  
Max stood still until the last second, when, to their complete surprise, she stepped forward, hitting each one flush in the jaw with a speed that left them gaping and enough force to knock them out cold.  
  
Max took a quick look at all three, but none of them showed any sign of returning to the fray, so with a final longing glance in the direction of the diner and her hot coffee, she jumped on her Ninja, and sped away.  
  
**************************************************  
  
Max stopped by her own place on her way back to the hospital, touching base with Original Cindy, having a quick shower and changing into fresh clothes.  
  
The hospital was busy now with it's daily ministrations and the corridors were filled with nurses, doctors, orderlies pushing gurneys with patients to various parts of the hospital, cleaning staff, and people with any number of other reasons to be there mid morning.  
  
Zack was leaning against the wall outside Logan's room when she returned, surveying the passing traffic with an almost bored expression that hid his eagle-eyed scrutiny.  
  
"Bling's in there with him," he remarked to Max as she approached.  
  
Hearing the sound of Bling's slightly raised voice through the open door, Max looked in, surprised to see Logan, dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed.  
  
With eyes rolling, she stepped past Zack and went inside.  
  
"What d'you think you're doing?" she snapped incredulously.  
  
Zack, with a small smile to himself, followed her in. He didn't want to miss the fireworks.  
  
Bling, who was kneeling in front of Logan putting on his shoes for him, gave her a resigned look. "I've already gone through this with him," he told her.  
  
"I'm getting outta here, what does it look like?" replied Logan calmly.  
  
"Does Sam know about this?"  
  
With a very annoyed sigh- and he could put a great deal of expression into such a small sound- Logan stated slowly, "They were moving me out of ICU, so I decided it would make more sense to go home than go to another room."  
  
"Even though you don't have the strength to put your own shoes on," muttered Bling.  
  
"I've got things that need to be taken care of," Logan explained exactingly.  
  
"One of them being your 'health'," added Max quickly.  
  
"Yeah, well I can take care of that tomorrow, today I've got things to do!" answered Logan stubbornly.  
  
"Let's just hope you're still around by then," replied Max, lightly sarcastic.  
  
Logan looked up at her, but for once he didn't have the strength to reply.  
  
Taking his silence as a victory to her, her next comment was cut short by Sam's arrival on the scene.  
  
"I hear you're leaving us," he remarked ironically to Logan. "Not many of my patients leave ICU to go home."  
  
Bling stood up at this point, hesitating in bringing Logan's wheelchair over until he heard what Sam had to say.  
  
Max watched the proceedings with interest. She thought Logan looked as determined as ever, but perhaps less confident of the outcome with Sam's appearance on the scene, and Max was sure Sam wouldn't let him leave if it was dangerous to his health.  
  
Lowering his own eyes, Logan waited a little tensely for his doctor's words.  
  
Sam considered Logan thoughtfully for a moment. "As your doctor, I 'should' insist on you staying ..." Logan felt a glimmer of hope, "but then I never like to waste good words."  
  
"Thanks Sam," Logan said, unable to hide the small smile of relief.  
  
Sam nodded. "Just take it easy, huh, and I'd be grateful if I didn't see you around here for a while," he added with a wry smile.  
  
"I'll do my best," grinned Logan.  
  
Once Sam had gone, Logan turned to Max, asking the question that had been uppermost in his mind, "How'd it go at the diner?"  
  
"No sign of Byron, but I did have the pleasure of meeting up with one of our friends from Morristown."  
  
Logan raised his eyebrows at that.  
  
"And the man behind the counter serves notes with his coffees for no extra charge."  
  
Max handed the note to Logan, still sitting on the bed.  
  
Logan read it silently, then looked over at Max. "What d' you make of it?"  
  
"I'm wondering why Byron's brother Phillip wants to meet with us."  
  
"It could be a trap," acknowledged Logan, handing her back the note and sliding across to his wheelchair. "When does he want to meet us again?" he queried.  
  
Max frowned a little, noting that Logan didn't quite have his wits back.  
  
"8 pm, back at the market."  
  
Aware of Max's stare, Logan tried to work through the problem quickly, but it was hard when his brain seemed to be in 'slo-mo'.  
  
Glad of the distraction of putting his feet on the footrest because it gave him longer to reply, he had to admit he was struggling to come up with a reasonable plan.  
  
"I'm not sure I like it, Logan," stated Max, picking up the bag Bling had brought in for him.  
  
Logan looked at her, trying to make a decision, but all he could come up with in his mind was, 'I feel like crap, and I think I'm gonna throw up.'  
  
Max took one look at him and said, "Let's get you home, and we can work it out from there."  
  
********************************************************  
  
"Why are you doing that?" asked Max, her temper showing, when she saw Logan booting up his computer as soon as they got back to the penthouse.  
  
"I thought I'd better check into the security at MacFarland's. See if that's where they're keeping Byron."  
  
"Or maybe they're not keeping Byron anywhere, and the whole thing last night was a set up," suggested Max.  
  
"You're just being the devil's advocate," replied Logan, with a quick glance at her. "You don't believe that any more than I do."  
  
"Well, our track record in character reading hasn't been the best lately remember."  
  
"You seem 'determined' to remind me of that fact," Logan said caustically, turning back to his screen.  
  
"You know what I mean," Max said, easing up a little.  
  
Logan continued to stare at the screen, waiting for his information to come up.  
  
"You want some lunch, people?" asked Bling, coming through from the kitchen.  
  
Max looked over at Zack, who was standing at one of the windows, gazing across to the other buildings.  
  
Walking over to him, she said, "You hungry, Zack?"  
  
"I'm an X5 aren't I?" he smiled back at her. "I'll say this for Logan, he's got a great view from up here. He's got a lotta great things in his life," he added suddenly, staring at her intently for a moment.  
  
Max's gaze faltered under his. "I'm not sure I thanked you properly for everything you did last night," she said.  
  
Zack shrugged. "I guess you had a lot on your mind."  
  
"Well, I want you to know it meant a lot to me," she said sincerely.  
  
Zack's blue eyes held hers searchingly, then flickered to Logan. "I know it did," he answered evenly.  
  
Max smiled at him. "Come on, and I'll feed you; it's the least I can do."  
  
***********************************************  
  
Max helped Bling put the various items of food out for sandwiches, while Zack set about making some hot drinks.  
  
"Logan, you eating lunch?" asked Bling, walking through to his computer.  
  
"Uh uh," was the only reply.  
  
"What about something to drink?" Bling tried.  
  
"Nope."  
  
Bling looked like he was about to say something, but changed his mind, and walked back to the kitchen where Max and Zack were making their sandwiches, with Max filling Zack in on what had happened since they'd left him in Morristown.  
  
"This MacFarland sounds like a great guy," remarked Zack, biting into his sandwich as the three of them sat on the stools at the counter.  
  
Looking at Max he asked, "Are you gonna meet this other brother, Phillip, tonight?"  
  
"I'm not sure," answered Max, with a worried look in Logan's direction. "We've gotta talk about it."  
  
"I wouldn't expect too much from Logan in his present state," said Bling quietly.  
  
"You know you can count on me," put in Zack quickly.  
  
"I should talk to him," she said to Bling.  
  
"Someone's got to," muttered the trainer.  
  
*****************************************  
  
"Are you making much headway with that?" Max asked, leaning against the computer desk next to Logan.  
  
"No," he replied shortly.  
  
"Maybe you should leave it for a while. Come and have some lunch."  
  
"Lunch is the last thing my stomach needs right now," admitted Logan with a grimace.  
  
"You feeling bad?" Max asked tentatively.  
  
Unlocking his brakes and pushing back from the computer with his hands, he grimaced again. With a grunt of annoyance he knew he had to give up.  
  
"Just get Bling," he told her.  
  
********************************************************  
  
Max paced restlessly in front of the 'much admired' view of Seattle.  
  
She'd seen it all before.  
  
Zack walked into the living area, offering the information that he'd washed the dishes, but Max scarcely heard him.  
  
"I shouldn't have let him leave the hospital. He wasn't well enough," she told Zack.  
  
Zack grinned at her a little. "Seems to me that you two are a lot alike. Short of physical violence, I don't think you could have stopped him."  
  
Max smiled at that. "It's probably good for him to have his ass kicked every once in a while."  
  
Seeing Bling coming from Logan's room, she walked out to meet him.  
  
"Is he all right?" asked Max at once.  
  
"I put him to bed and he was asleep in five seconds. He probably just needs to sleep this off."  
  
Max looked relieved. She trusted Bling in these matters.  
  
The trainer smiled easily at her. "I'll check in on him later."  
  
"You'll have to decide what you're gonna do about the meet with the other brother," said Zack, breaking in on her thoughts as she returned to him.  
  
"Phillip MacFarland," sighed Max, dragged back to their problems.  
  
"Logan's not up to making a decision on this one," Zack pointed out.  
  
Max stared out the windows, much the same as Zack had earlier, feeling strangely alone. She had become so used to talking things through with Logan, even when he didn't agree with her, that it felt strange to not be able to talk this out with him, particularly when it involved him so much.  
  
"D'you know what Logan was thinking?" prompted Zack.  
  
"All I'm sure of is that he wanted to save Byron," replied Max with certainty.  
  
"Seems to me we have no choice but to meet the other brother then," stated Zack prosaically.  
  
"You said 'we'. You don't have to come along. I can't be sure it's not a trap," Max told him honestly.  
  
Zack shrugged, saying, "I said I'd help you," as if the matter were settled.  
  
******************************************  
  
Max spent a great deal of the afternoon at Logan's computer, continuing his hack into MacFarland's files to access any security information she could, assuming that Byron was being held somewhere on the grounds.  
  
Standing at the doorway, Zack watched her as she intently searched the screen for the information she sought, her full lips slightly parted, brown eyes pools of concentration, leaning forward slightly, her entire attention solely concerned with finding that information. For Logan.  
  
"Have you discovered anything?" he asked, more to make conversation than anything else.  
  
Max took a sip of the coffee she had at hand. "I don't have Logan's talent for this sorta thing," she admitted disheartened, tightening her lips.  
  
Watching her, Zack wondered how eyes with her depth of brown could be so exhilaratingly expressive.  
  
As Logan did so many times, Max stared at the screen, feeling the frustration that the answers she needed were locked somewhere inside the machine in front of her, if she only had the right key to open it.  
  
"I feel like I'm letting him down," she murmured.  
  
"I don't think anyone would 'ever' think that of you," Zack told her, perhaps with slightly more emotion than he'd meant to. "Certainly not Logan, from what I've seen of him," Zack added at his clinical best.  
  
Max abruptly got up from the computer. "Maybe I can't find the security information, but I 'can' finish checking out the sites Logan gave me last night, before we see Phillip MacFarland."  
  
"Sounds fine to me," agreed Zack, although not honest enough to admit it to himself, his good mood was directly related to the fact that he would be spending some time alone with Max.  
  
Max acknowledged his words with a small smile, then went in search of Bling, whom she found coming out of Logan's room.  
  
"Is everything okay?"  
  
Bling smiled at her reassuringly. "Logan's still asleep."  
  
Max nodded, going through to the guest bedroom to change into her black gear.  
  
On impulse, as she passed Logan's room again, she gently opened the door. As Bling said, he looked to be sleeping peacefully, even though she thought his colour was still very pale.  
  
Unexpectedly, his green eyes opened, as if somehow he'd been aware of her presence.  
  
"Max?" he murmured.  
  
Annoyed with herself for having disturbed him, she went across to his side, kneeling down until her face was close to his.  
  
"Shh. I just came in to tell you that Zack and I are going now. Go back to sleep," she whispered soothingly.  
  
Max watched him as he looked at her with a funny, confused expression on his face that made him look young and boyish. He then turned his head on the pillow, and with a small smile at her, closed his eyes again. It was an expression to remember she thought with a grin on her own face, as she walked out.  
  
"You had some good news?" Zack asked her as they went down in the elevator.  
  
"No, it's just 'all good'," she told him, not completely able to hide her own smile.  
  
**************************************************  
  
It was slow going checking the last two sites on Logan's list, as being daytime, there were more people around, and it wasn't as easy to get in and out unseen. As it turned out, neither one proved to be what they were hoping to find. The house had been taken over by squatters, and the factory, in a remarkable show of strength, had somehow managed to restart their production again, on a small scale.  
  
"Well, so much for that," remarked Max as they walked to her bike. "We've still got some time to kill before eight. You wanna grab a bite to eat?"  
  
"Do you know somewhere nearby?"  
  
"Hey, you're looking at a Jam Pony rider. I know all the good places. I just can't afford to go there," she joked.  
  
"What about someplace close to the market where the meet is?" suggested Zack.  
  
Max thought for a moment. "Yeah, I think I know a place near there. You buyin'?" she added with a cheeky smile.  
  
******************************************************  
  
Logan was having an extremely pleasant dream.  
  
It didn't make a lot of sense, but Max was in her black catsuit, saying something to him about feeding the dog, and he suddenly remembered he'd never bought the dog food for Bob in Morristown.  
  
Instead of being annoyed with him, she looked at him with a particularly seductive smile, and brought her lips very close to his ear.  
  
Logan closed his eyes in anticipation, only to open them very suddenly with disgust.  
  
Something big and wet was slobbering on his face, and he knew for a certainty it wasn't Max.  
  
"Bob?" he spoke out loud, realizing unexpectedly that he was awake, and Bob was an inch from his face, tongue out, panting happily at being reunited with the owner of the steel framed glasses, which he had, for old time's sake, deposited once again on Logan's chest.  
  
Trying to move himself away from such close proximity to the dog's breath and at the same time push the dog away a little, it finally dawned on Logan that it was remarkably strange for Bob to show up in his apartment in Seattle.  
  
Staring at the dog, who had now put two large paws on Logan's legs and regarded him with a slightly territorial look, Logan looked at it with a bemused expression that Max would have enjoyed if she'd been there, and called out very loudly to Bling.  
  
Within seconds, Bling popped his head around the open door, then another figure appeared behind him.  
  
"Riley, what are you doing here?" asked Logan, wondering if perhaps he was dreaming after all.  
  
"Bob, get down," were Riley's first words, then he turned to Logan. "Hi, how're you doin'? You look awful," he finished bluntly.  
  
Logan scratched at his face. "Thanks."  
  
"Bob, get down," snapped Riley again to the dog, who was still on Logan's legs, panting happily.  
  
"Riley, why don't you come and grab him," suggested Logan 'patiently', wiping his glasses on the sheet before putting them on.  
  
The young man smiled at Logan and going forward and grabbing the dog by the collar, he pulled him off.  
  
"You wanna sit up?" asked Bling, grabbing a couple of pillows from a chair as Logan nodded.  
  
"How're you feeling?" he smiled down at Logan as the latter pulled himself into a sitting position and leaned back against the pillows.  
  
"Remarkably good," Logan answered, sounding surprised. Both the nausea and the overpowering weariness that had forced him to bed appeared, thankfully, to have gone.  
  
Logan looked at Riley. "What are you doin' in Seattle?"  
  
"I tried callin' ya, but I couldn't get an answer."  
  
Logan nodded. "You didn't think of leaving a message?" he suggested.  
  
"I don't like speakin' into those things," admitted Riley, manfully.  
  
Logan nodded again. What could he say?  
  
Waiting a beat, but still with no explanation forthcoming, Logan tried again, "So just why 'did' you have to talk to me?"  
  
"It was on account of this," replied the boy, taking out a newspaper clipping from his back pocket and handing it to Logan.  
  
"What is this?" Logan asked.  
  
"It's our local paper, thought you might be interested in it."  
  
Logan was interested all right, and he wondered how Riley could have known about Stuart MacFarland's involvement in all this.  
  
The article was reporting a welcome injection of capital into the logging industry, by Carmichael Logging.  
  
"And?" asked Logan, still not sure of what Riley was getting at.  
  
"I saw him talking to the man you think killed Charlie, the day after you left Morristown," explained Riley in a matter-of-fact way.  
  
Logan looked at the clipping again. It was at least four months old.  
  
Shooing Bob out of the way, Riley moved to Logan's side. "This is the man I saw."  
  
With an assured manner he pointed to one of the three men in the picture.  
  
It was Phillip MacFarland.  
  
TBC 


	18. Phillip MacFarland

Heartfelt thanks for all the positive reviews again – I really appreciate them!!  
  
A/N: I must apologize for unintentionally misleading some of you who have been hoping to see a Max and Logan 'getting together' type romance. I listed 'romance' as the third category just to say that there would be a hint of romance, with hopefully the subtleties found in Season 1, which I particularly enjoy, not meaning to imply that it was a romance as such. I try to keep it in the tradition of Season 1, so I'm very sorry if I have confused any of you!! I do hope you'll all still continue to read and enjoy!!  
  
Chapter 18  
  
Logan looked down at the picture with a growing dread.  
  
Somewhere at the back of his mind, he had a particularly pleasant memory of Max coming into his bedroom, and whispering something in his ear.  
  
"Where's Max?" he shot at Bling.  
  
"Zack and Max went out earlier. As far as I know, she intended to meet the other brother, Phillip MacFarland, in your place."  
  
Quickly looking at his watch, with some relief he saw that it was eight minutes before eight.  
  
There was no time for niceties. "My phone, quick," he said to Bling.  
  
Riley looked at him anxiously. "Is Max in some kinda trouble?"  
  
Fearing exactly that, Logan replied, "'Max' is remarkably good at looking out for herself."  
  
Logan grabbed his phone from Bling as soon as he returned, and dialled Zack's cell phone number.  
  
"Pick up," he muttered impatiently, as he could hear the phone ringing.  
  
Bling and Riley watched expectantly.  
  
"Zack! It's a trap," said Logan into the phone without preamble. "Looks like Phillip MacFarland is in on the deal."  
  
"Right," Zack replied curtly, ringing off.  
  
Feeling only vaguely satisfied, he looked up at Bling and Riley. "Well, I got through and warned them," he said musingly.  
  
"That's good then," answered Bling in a heartening tone.  
  
"Guess so," replied Logan, sounding as if his thoughts were elsewhere.  
  
Bob, feeling a bit left out at this point, hopped up on the bed and lay himself down contentedly, with his head on Logan's lap.  
  
Looking at the dog, and not entirely sure he wanted it on his bed, Logan said in a slightly worried voice to Riley, "He 'is' house trained ... right?"  
  
*********************************************************  
  
Hearing nothing more from Zack, Logan got up and had a shower, while Bling fed Riley and Bob.  
  
Riley looked about the apartment, impressed. "Wow, Max told me he was loaded!"  
  
Bling smiled a bit at his artlessness.  
  
"What else did Max tell you?" he asked amused.  
  
Riley paused, his fork halfway to his mouth. "Nothin' much, but I think she's sweet on Logan," he stated matter-of-factly.  
  
This made Bling smile openly.  
  
"What's so funny?" asked Logan, coming into the kitchen just then.  
  
"Riley here is just giving me his views on relationships," Bling told him straight-faced.  
  
Logan had the sneaking suspicion the laugh had been at his expense, but Bling didn't look like he was going to be forth coming, so he left it at that, and headed to the fridge.  
  
"So, you got your appetite back," commented Bling.  
  
"I'm starved," Logan replied with feeling, taking out the butter and some salad items to make a sandwich.  
  
"I'm having coffee if you want some," Bling offered.  
  
"Great," answered Logan, making his sandwich.  
  
Throwing a look across at Riley, who was sitting at the counter, he asked him curiously, "Just how 'did' you find this place?"  
  
"When I couldn't get any answer here, I got a bit worried," he explained, self-consciously.  
  
Worried about Max if I'm reading it right, thought Logan with an inward smile, briefly glancing at Bling to see that he too had the same thought.  
  
"So Bob and I hitched a ride down here. I got in this evening and tried you from a local phone."  
  
"You were asleep when Riley called, so I gave him your address," finished Bling.  
  
"Just as well you did," responded Logan warmly, before taking a bite of his sandwich.  
  
Thanking Bling for his coffee, his eyes went to the clock on the microwave, wondering why he hadn't heard from Max. It wasn't that far to the market.  
  
Riley chatted on about life in Morristown, and his views on life in general, apparently feeling quite loquacious away from the stifling influence of his hometown. He certainly kept Bling entertained, but Logan only listened with half an ear as he ate.  
  
He had resisted the urge to call Zack back because he felt sure the other would consider him to be worrying needlessly, then just as he had determined to call regardless, the phone rang.  
  
Picking it up from his lap, and checking it was Zack before he put it to his ear, he said, "Hey."  
  
"Logan?" It was Max's voice, sounding surprised to hear him.  
  
"Yeah, what's happening?"  
  
"I got you a present, but we'll need the car. Can you send Bling?"  
  
"I got it covered," said Logan quickly. "Where are you?"  
  
"Still at the market," she answered, "east entrance."  
  
"Fine. I'll see you there."  
  
*********************************************************  
  
The market was dark and deserted at that hour, the only lighting in the area being one floodlight that was set up for safety purposes to light the area that had been devastated by the bomb.  
  
Heading to the east entrance, Logan carefully scanned the area for Max or Zack, but there was no sign of anyone.  
  
"Where are you Max?" he muttered under his breath, as he turned the car around and prepared to do another sweep of the area.  
  
Seeing a movement to his left, near the actual entrance, he slowed down even more, staring intently in that direction, but the inevitable drizzle made it near impossible to distinguish who it was.  
  
He had just pushed the button to let his window down, when he became aware of another figure, this time on the other side of the road, running towards him, followed by another two figures further behind.  
  
"Logan!" yelled the first person running at the car.  
  
Relieved, he slowed the car and stopped to let Max in as she came racing towards him.  
  
"Keep down!" she yelled at him again as he pulled up, ducking instinctively as he heard the distinctive sound of a bullet hitting the car.  
  
Doing his best to make himself less of a target, he looked to his right where he could see the other two figures coming towards them. They were both nearly at the car when one seemed to stumble, the other one grabbing at him, and literally pulling him the last few feet to the car.  
  
"Get going," Max shouted tersely, as soon as the other two figures were in the car.  
  
Concentrating purely on getting out of the area as quickly as possible, Logan roared into the night, his only thought to put as much distance between themselves and whoever was firing at them, as quickly as possible.  
  
Logan did as many turns as he possibly could to throw a would-be pursuer off their tail, but he could see no sign of lights following and he was beginning to believe they'd got away unhindered.  
  
Max had checked frequently behind as well for a telltale set of lights following them, but there was none to be seen.  
  
"Why have we got Phillip MacFarland with us?" asked Logan, beginning to relax a little.  
  
"He just couldn't say no to my invitation," replied Max airily, "And I think he has a strong desire to unburden his soul."  
  
"Car, pursuers, bullets - this is starting to become a habit," she remarked to Logan, with a final look behind them.  
  
"Well, I try to keep my hand in," he explained flippantly.  
  
Max looked across at him, the hint of a smile on her lips, brows raised, voice silky smooth. "It's good to see you out and about," she said, in that playful, almost seductive tone she sometimes used.  
  
Logan gave her one of his wide grins, bringing his thoughts back with some difficulty to the task at hand.  
  
A quick glance in the back showed Phillip MacFarland slumped in the corner, a wary eye on a silent Zack, who watched him intently.  
  
Logan shot a quick look at Max. Either he was imagining it, or there was a lot of friction between her and Zack that he hadn't remembered earlier. Then again, he thought wryly, he'd felt too awful to be aware of anything earlier in the day.  
  
Logan tried to formulate a plan. He hadn't counted on Phillip MacFarland as a possible guest. "So, what do we do with him?" he asked generally.  
  
"I say we should have left him behind," put in Zack immediately.  
  
"Yeah, well, I don't remember saying it was your call to make," snapped Max.  
  
Logan nodded to himself. This made it all clear.  
  
"What are you nodding about?" Max jumped on him.  
  
"Nothing...I'm just trying to think this out," Logan replied diplomatically.  
  
"And you've now left your bike back there in your insistence on bringing MacFarland, who has not been checked for any tracking device," continued Zack inexorably.  
  
"My bike was well hidden where I left it," snapped Max. "I can get it later."  
  
Closer to an even tone, Max said to Logan, "We can't take him back to your place. His father's probably got someone watching it."  
  
"I know."  
  
"Safe house?" suggested Max.  
  
Logan made a face. It was a damned cold night, and none of the safe houses he had set up were salubrious affairs.  
  
"Motel," he answered decisively.  
  
"My, we're going up in the world," smiled Max.  
  
"Don't get too carried away," Logan replied sardonically.  
  
Max pouted. "Couldn't we go a little up-market?"  
  
"No," answered Logan unequivocally, stopping the car and getting out his cell.  
  
Max listened while he made the arrangements for some rooms, looking around at Zack and Phillip MacFarland. Neither had spoken or changed their position, Zack intent on guarding the other man, and Phillip MacFarland looking too shocked about suddenly finding himself taken captive to know what to do.  
  
Driving on another ten minutes or so, they came to a particularly seedy, run-down motel that proudly boasted 'TV in every room' on its sign.  
  
"Is that the best they can do?" asked Max, getting out to retrieve Logan's wheelchair from the back where he'd had Bling put it to make way for possible passengers.  
  
As she stood next to Logan while he transferred, a large rat came scurrying past their feet from the direction of the motel, and headed across the road to an equally tawdry looking establishment.  
  
Max looked at Logan. "Even the vermin have better taste than to stay here."  
  
Logan threw her an exasperated look, then said, "Come on."  
  
************************************************  
  
The interior of the motel was no more prepossessing than the exterior had been, smelling of stale beer and cigarettes.  
  
Logan had booked a 'family room' on the ground floor, which consisted of one double and two single beds, all covered in dark brown chenille bedspreads that were liberally dotted with cigarette burns, a couple of uncomfortable looking chairs and a small table. A small kitchenette, and bathroom were the other amenities.  
  
Their only luggage was Logan's laptop that he carried on his knee.  
  
Zack escorted the silent Phillip MacFarland into the room, and made him sit down on one of the chairs that faced the beds, sitting down himself on one of the single beds. The blonde haired MacFarland sat hunched, refusing to make eye contact with anyone.  
  
Logan looked at him, not quite sure how to begin. It was hard to know the other's frame of mind.  
  
"Do you know where your brother is?" he tried initially.  
  
Phillip looked at him with a slightly belligerent look, but said nothing.  
  
"Did you know that he's not happy with your father's plans?"  
  
Again, the same look.  
  
Max stepped up to him at that point. "We haven't got you here to stare at your pretty face. We want some answers," she stated, with more than a touch of belligerence herself.  
  
"What does all this matter to you?" Phillip said, looking at them in some confusion. "What does it matter to you if some scum are exterminated?"  
  
"You've only been fed one viewpoint by your father: that to somehow make your mother's death worthwhile you eradicate other perpetrators of wrongdoing," Logan said to him quietly.  
  
Phillip MacFarland nodded at his words, as if finding comfort in them.  
  
Logan leaned forward in his chair and spoke intently. "Let me give you another viewpoint. 'Nothing' can make your mother's death worthwhile. It was a senseless, tragic event that your father is unable to deal with."  
  
The younger man flinched slightly at his words.  
  
"What your father is doing is 'murder' – pure and simple ... and it's wrong," finished Logan decisively.  
  
"What is all this to you?" he spat out, looking at Logan. "You've been meddling in this for days."  
  
Not being able to tell him the truth, he replied mildly instead, "I'm a journalist. I like to report the truth."  
  
"Yeah, well no one reported the truth when my mother died. No one said that a wonderful, kind loving person was killed because two gangs were fighting over what side of the street they were gonna live in!" MacFarland stormed at them, standing abruptly, clenching and unclenching his fists and looking around wildly as if he wanted to bolt for the door.  
  
Max and Zack watched him warily.  
  
"We need to find out where Byron is. We're worried about his safety," tried Max.  
  
"My father would never hurt Byron."  
  
"Well, he was willing to kill innocent children at the market," retorted Max coldly.  
  
Phillip MacFarland looked up at that.  
  
Logan pressed their advantage. "That's why Byron gave the tip off about the bomb. He hates what your father is doing."  
  
It was obvious that this was news to the other brother. Phillip looked at the floor, unseeingly. "Dad said we had an informer. He said that's who gave the tip-off."  
  
Max and Logan looked at each other.  
  
Hearing a noise outside, Zack went to the window to check, but it turned out to be just some other guests who were misguided enough to stay in the motel as well.  
  
Watching Phillip MacFarland, Logan felt a genuine sympathy for him. MacFarland's sons, given different circumstances, would have grown up to be stable, honourable young men, if they hadn't had a nut case for a father.  
  
"Phillip, I know this sounds trite, but what your father is doing is not gonna bring any glory to your mother's death." Watching the bowed head, he added, "These are hard times ..."  
  
Max's eyes went to Logan's face. She could see him struggling.  
  
Meeting her eyes briefly, he said quietly, "There are just some hurts we have to live with."  
  
Something in Logan's voice made Phillip turn to him.  
  
"Byron tried to tell me ... maybe I just let the grief eat at me."  
  
He was silent for quite a while.  
  
Zack came back from the window. "We need to make a decision," he prompted seriously.  
  
Max looked at Phillip. "Zack's right. Your father tried to kill Logan last night after he heard him talking to Byron. We're worried for Byron's safety as well."  
  
These new revelations made Phillip look up with a mixture of horror and dismay, and somewhere the realization that it was not all together a surprise. On the other hand, if their story was true, how was it that Logan sat there looking perfectly well?  
  
Sensing a little of what was going through his mind, Logan said, "I take it your father has an interest in pharmaceuticals?"  
  
Phillip nodded his head.  
  
"Yeah, well he had one of his waiters inject Logan with a particularly nasty drug last night at your house," stated Max with an acid bluntness.  
  
"Fleischer," nodded Phillip.  
  
"Who's Fleischer?" asked Logan.  
  
"Head of security. I did wonder why I saw him dressed as a waiter last night."  
  
"Let's cut to the chase. Are you gonna help us find your brother?" asked Max, to the point.  
  
Phillip MacFarland looked from one to the other. The evidence they presented against his father was overwhelming. He simply nodded.  
  
*****************************************  
  
After questioning Phillip for some time, they established that Byron was more than likely held at an old house that had belonged to his mother, and had once been the family home.  
  
"What about the people your father trained – where are they being kept?" asked Logan.  
  
Phillip shrugged at that. "All over the place. He's got them split up in places all over the city."  
  
Logan looked at Max with a frustrated look. "No wonder we couldn't find them," he said bitterly, thinking of all the time they'd wasted.  
  
Turning again to Phillip, he said, "I've got to get into your father's security files. Do you know his password?"  
  
The other man shook his head apologetically. "Dad was always secretive about those things. He said, for our own protection, the less Byron and I knew, the better."  
  
"Damn," said Logan with an annoyed sigh. "Short of you and Byron turning yourselves in, I need to get into those files to get the evidence to stop your father."  
  
Phillip looked at Logan intently. "If that's what I have to do, I'll do it. I don't want my father to be responsible for any more deaths."  
  
"Then perhaps we should think about doing it," stated Zack, "and this thing could be finished with now."  
  
"The quickest way isn't always the most expedient," put in Max coldly, unable to forget how he had killed Vogelsang.  
  
Logan closed his laptop slowly, looking carefully at Phillip MacFarland as he did so, both Zack's and Phillip's words setting off an avalanche of thoughts in his mind.  
  
Putting Phillip and Byron in the hands of a highly dubious legal system, that could see them being sent to a witness protection program that had a very high failure rate in order to guarantee their safety from those in the underworld who'd happily see them dead as being a party to the deaths of family or colleagues ...well, he felt like he'd be signing their death warrant.  
  
"I'd rather hold off on that if I can." Logan said seriously. "The reality is that you and Byron will probably have to face some charges as accomplices to your father's plan ..."  
  
"I'm willing to do that," cut in the son.  
  
"Be that as it may, I don't think we would accomplish a great deal if you go forward now, and it may not stop your father. It just might send him underground."  
  
Phillip nodded. "I can't pretend I'm not a little relieved at your words," he said, with the smallest of smiles.  
  
"Hey," said Logan, holding up his hands, "I'm just a journalist; what do I know?"  
  
"What do you know about this house where your brother probably is?" asked Max.  
  
"The usual place in the suburbs: two storey, white timber, picket fence, the whole deal."  
  
Max smiled at him. "It sounds perfect."  
  
Phillip stopped smiling. "Don't use that word," he said harshly.  
  
"I'm sorry..." began Max, but he'd already turned and was headed for the bathroom.  
  
Max looked at Logan. "What did I say?"  
  
Logan wheeled toward the kitchen area.  
  
"Well?" said Max, following him.  
  
Speaking in a low voice as he looked for some coffee or tea, Logan murmured, "Haven't you wondered how both MacFarland boys look so perfect?"  
  
Max shrugged. "I dunno, I guess I grew up with Manticore perfection."  
  
Finding some coffee, Logan put the kettle on, saying, "Those boys are the result of a fortune spent on orthodontic work and plastic surgeons."  
  
Max was impressed. "How d'you know?" Then added, "Up here," as she found the cups Logan was wanting in a top cupboard, and passed them to him.  
  
"You want one? Have to be black I'm afraid."  
  
"Sure," answered Max with a smile, then bringing him back to the point, "You were saying...?"  
  
Getting back to his train of thought, Logan said, "It was one of the files I was able to find this morning. Something MacFarland said to me ...was it only last night?" he added, frowning.  
  
Max nodded.  
  
"Whatever," continued Logan, hardly able to believe he'd been at MacFarland's only 24 hours before. "Anyway, the man's a complete perfectionist, probably to the point of being manic."  
  
Zack came up at that moment, interested in what Logan was saying.  
  
"Coffee Zack?" Logan asked, taking the cup Max handed him as Zack said yes.  
  
Max, whose manner had stiffened a little when Zack came in prompted Logan, "Go on with MacFarland."  
  
"According to their records, they've been under the knife countless times in the name of 'perfection.'" He said the final word with disgust. Taking a sip of his coffee, Logan looked up at her as she leant against the rather greasy looking bench. "I gotta say, it made me feel sorry for them."  
  
Max nodded. She knew first-hand what horrors could be performed in the name of perfection. It was how she had been made.  
  
"Having said all that," Logan stated, "I don't feel right in simply turning them in."  
  
Max thought about it. She could see Logan's point, but didn't think she was quite as altruistic as he was.  
  
"What's our next move?" she asked.  
  
Putting his now finished drink down, and unlocking his brakes, Logan headed back to the small table where he'd left his laptop, saying, "'Your' next move, is to release Byron MacFarland."  
  
As Phillip came out, Logan called to him, "What suburb is this house in?"  
  
"Mimi's house was in Gardenvale."  
  
"Okay," murmured Logan, already busy with the keys. Suddenly he looked up at Phillip, as if having just registered what he'd said. "What did you say?"  
  
"Mimi's house?" the other man queried.  
  
"Yeah, what is that?"  
  
"Mimi was my father's nickname for my mother."  
  
Max turned to Logan, her expression hopeful. "The password?"  
  
Logan returned her look, then busied himself at the keys, the other three watching him intently.  
  
After several minutes, Logan looked up at them. "We're in."  
  
"How does this help us now?" asked Phillip.  
  
"Well," answered Logan, his voice sounding a little distracted as he concentrated on the screen in front of him, "firstly, we should be able to ascertain for sure where your father has Byron." His voice trailed off as he sought the information from the files.  
  
Again the others watched and waited.  
  
Frowning slightly, Logan's fingers stabbed at the keys with skilled precision, then paused as he waited for the screen to come up. "Got it," he said, unable to keep the triumphant note from his voice.  
  
"Where is he?" asked Zack.  
  
"Right where Phillip said, and they change the security over at 7 a.m. according to this." Logan pressed some more keys, then reading from the screen, he said, "Only two guards, one at the gate, and the other inside with Byron." Looking up at Phillip, he said with some surprise, "Your father doesn't appear to consider him much of a threat."  
  
MacFarland's blue eyes clouded over. "Byron loves my father," he said simply.  
  
"Well, I hope that won't be a problem," commented Zack. "because you're both gonna be responsible for stopping him."  
  
"It's 'because' we love him that we want to stop him," said Phillip almost inaudibly.  
  
Max, feeling vaguely uncomfortable at seeing the other man's pain, said to Logan, "So we should go in before the change-over. Catch the two guards while they're tired."  
  
"If they're well trained, then that's when they would be expecting someone to go in," disagreed Zack.  
  
"Or 'they'll think' that 'we'll think' that because they're well trained we'd be expecting them to expect us to think that," Max said decisively.  
  
Logan looked at her twice. "Whatever," he said confusedly, wondering if there were still traces of the drug in his system. "I'm not exactly sure 'what' it is," he said to Max, "but we'll follow 'your' plan."  
  
Max couldn't resist the hint of a triumphant glance in Zack's direction. "We'll leave here at 6am," she said smoothly.  
  
"In the meantime, you should all try and get some rest," advised Logan, packing up his laptop and grabbing his keys from the small table where he'd left them on entering.  
  
"Where are you going?" Max asked him suspiciously.  
  
"I've gotta get back to my place..." began Logan.  
  
"Will you excuse us?" said Max to Zack and Phillip, with one of her brilliant smiles.  
  
Holding open the door she ushered Logan outside, where she immediately turned to him and said accusingly in a loud whisper, "You're not thinking of leaving me here?"  
  
"Yeah," he replied, with a 'what's wrong with that?' expression.  
  
Max's own expression should have warned him. "You're going back to the Taj Mahal and leaving me here in this hell hole all by myself?"  
  
"I'd hardly say you were by yourself," he corrected her pointedly. "I thought you'd like to spend some time with Zack."  
  
Max merely looked straight ahead.  
  
"Am I to assume by that that all is not well in X5 land?"  
  
"The only thing Zack wants to do is argue, and Phillip heads to the bathroom every time I speak to him."  
  
"Don't you think that's a slight exaggeration?" he smiled, but seeing the detrimental effect these words had on her, he quickly tried another tack. "Max, it's only for a few hours."  
  
"I traipsed around all afternoon covering your list for you, got shot at, left my bike behind, 'and' ..." she reminded him in a dangerously quiet voice, adding another wrong to the rapidly growing list, "I haven't even had dinner yet!"  
  
Logan thought quickly. "I've got Riley and Bob waiting at my place. Not to mention Bling, who'll be wanting to go home."  
  
"Riley?" asked Max, surprised.  
  
"That's how I knew about Phillip being in on the set-up tonight. Riley had seen him in Morristown."  
  
Max was looking at Logan and smiling a little now. "Did you say you have Bob in your apartment as well?"  
  
"Mmm," replied Logan, not looking entirely happy about the arrangement. "All the more reason for me to get back there," he added, "and I really need some peace and quiet to work on MacFarland's files."  
  
Max stood in front of him, arms folded, staring steadily into his green eyes.  
  
Rocking his chair nervously, Logan tried a hopeful grin.  
  
Max capitulated.  
  
TBC 


	19. Two Brothers

Once again, my many thanks for all the reviews – they make my day!! They were very much appreciated as always.  
  
Sorry about the delay with the last few chapters, but my beta Alaidh has been struggling on with an injured hand and has been surviving on copious amounts of codeine so my extra special thanks to her!!!  
  
Chapter 19  
  
Logan had to ensure that Max was happy before he left, so he ordered in some pizzas for their dinner, and dropped Max off at her motorbike back at the market on his way home.  
  
"I'll see you back at the motel at six," she said to him through the driver's window as he prepared to drive off.  
  
Max looked at him for a moment longer. "MacFarland may still be after you. Maybe you'd better get Bling to meet you in the parking lot when you get home."  
  
Logan stared through the windshield with a slightly exasperated look.  
  
"Wouldn't hurt," prompted Max, in one of her more cajoling tones.  
  
Logan turned to her with a small smile that acknowledged the fact he knew he was being played.  
  
"Okay," he agreed.  
  
Max's smile lit her eyes.  
  
"Be careful/take care," they both said at the same time.  
  
With a grin on their respective faces, they drove off in different directions into the wet Seattle night.  
  
**********************************************  
  
It was close to midnight by the time Logan got back to his apartment, obediently having arranged for Bling to meet him as he drove in.  
  
He could feel his heart rate increase a little as he drove his car down into the parking garage beneath his apartment, in spite of his reticence in making Bling wait for him  
  
Bling greeted him with his easy, good-natured smile. "All quiet down here."  
  
"I'm glad," admitted Logan, casting a quick glance around as he pushed himself away from the car in readiness to close the door. "What are Riley...?" 'and Bob up to' he went to say, when he was silenced by Bling gesturing with a finger to his lips.  
  
Logan immediately looked around, but could see nothing.  
  
Bling stepped forward and closed the door, saying in a calm, serious undertone, "Head for the elevator, now."  
  
By this time, the sound of hurried footsteps echoing through the area was becoming increasingly loud.  
  
Logan locked the doors of the car with his remote and headed straight towards the elevator, with Bling close behind him.  
  
Bling had just put his hands on Logan's shoulders to hurry him along when a voice stopped them.  
  
"Bling, Bling!"  
  
They both stopped.  
  
She had come around the corner, quite out of breath, one hand to her slender throat in a gesture of relief, blue eyes hopeful, she eyed the both of them expectantly.  
  
"You haven't seen my cat have you?"  
  
Bling and Logan looked at each other, an amused expression on both their faces.  
  
"I just opened the car door, and she jumped straight out before I could stop her."  
  
The blue eyes looked around searchingly, noting the blank look on each of their faces.  
  
"So, you didn't see her, huh?"  
  
Logan said, "Sorry."  
  
Bling continued to smile at her.  
  
Logan looked up at Bling prompting him, "We didn't see a cat; did we Bling?"  
  
Breaking from his thoughts, Bling said, "I'm sorry Candy; we've just come in. Didn't see a thing."  
  
Logan smiled at her sympathetically in agreement with Bling's words, finding her very easy on the eyes.  
  
"It's such a pest. This is the second time she's done this. I think there must be mice down here or something," she prattled on, one hand pushing her dark hair away from her face with an impatient gesture.  
  
Switching from one topic to the next like lightning, she suddenly put a hand out to Logan. "Bling and I are old friends," she said, throwing Bling a smile, but I've never had the pleasure of meeting you."  
  
Logan couldn't resist a quick look at Bling before he introduced himself, taking the proffered hand.  
  
"Nice to meet you," Candy smiled in response, then with a quick anxious look around, she was back to her quest. "I'd better keep going. It took me an hour to catch her last time. Be seeing you," she finished, with what Logan thought was a very particular look in Bling's direction.  
  
Logan looked up at Bling quizzically. "Old friends?" he repeated, as they covered the final distance to the elevator.  
  
"Well, when I'm not kickin' your ass, I do have a life," Bling replied smoothly, completely unabashed. "We've had coffee together a few times."  
  
Pressing the 'up' button, Logan said suspiciously, "What about the 'lady friend' you went out with the other night?"  
  
The elevator doors opened just then, and Logan wheeled himself inside, but kept his eyes on Bling as if to say the conversation wasn't finished.  
  
Bling smiled at the penthouse button as he pushed it.  
  
"Well?" prompted Logan, his journalistic instincts sniffing a story.  
  
"Mmm, she's special." Then with a grin at Logan he said, "But I like to keep my options open."  
  
*****************************************************  
  
Riley was asleep by the time they got in, but Bob welcomed Logan like an old friend.  
  
Looking around, Logan was relieved to find his apartment still in one piece.  
  
"We took Bob out for a few walks," put in Bling, correctly interpreting his expression.  
  
"That's another I owe you," said Logan. He went to push himself through to his computer when he spun back around. With a wry smile he said, "Thank you."  
  
"No big deal," replied Bling, a little surprised.  
  
Hesitating for a moment, his gaze eventually returning to Bling's face, he confessed with a little difficulty, "I know I'm not always the easiest person to get along with."  
  
"You can sure say that again," laughed Bling outright.  
  
Not quite the answer he expected, but admitting to Bling the accuracy of his words with his own rueful smile, he added, "Anyway, I want you to know that I appreciate the stuff you do for me."  
  
Still taken aback by Logan's unexpected candour, Bling simply said, "It's my pleasure, man, my pleasure."  
  
Logan nodded at him a little self-consciously, and this time continued on to his computer, reflecting that his words were probably well overdue.  
  
*****************************************************  
  
Now armed with the password to Stuart MacFarland's files, Logan spent an extremely profitable couple of hours hacking into the other man's security arrangements, confirming, as Phillip had said, that Byron was indeed a 'guest' in his old family home.  
  
The other thing of concern to Logan was the continuing threat he discovered that MacFarland had one major target in mind, and it appeared that D Day for the assault was 8 o'clock, the following evening.  
  
Relentlessly trying every trick he knew, it appeared that MacFarland had simply kept the target of the assault in his own head, because it definitely didn't seem to be in his computer.  
  
"Dammit!" he muttered, as the sixth successive thing he'd tried hadn't worked.  
  
Mindful of the time and the early hour he had to meet Max the following morning, all he could do was put word out on the Informant Net, and hope that Byron or Phillip could fill in the missing link.  
  
***************************************************  
  
Max was on the lookout for him when he pulled up at the motel only a few hours later, and had hustled the other two out to the car in a matter of minutes.  
  
It was a typical wintry Seattle morning: drizzling rain from a grey sky. Hardly inspiring for the task they had to do, thought Logan.  
  
Zack, on the other hand, viewed the unfavourable conditions as propitious.  
  
"This is good," he announced to those in the car. "The guards will be miserable, cold and wet."  
  
"Just like us," agreed Max flatly.  
  
Logan had the directions to the house from his computer, but he checked here and there with Phillip to make sure he was correct.  
  
Looking at the older MacFarland son, Logan thought he looked ill and tense as if he hadn't slept in days. Maybe he hadn't, he surmised.  
  
Zack filled Logan in on what they would require him to do. The property was surrounded by an eight foot fence, which while it posed no problem for the two X5's, there was no way Byron MacFarland would be able to jump over it.  
  
"Have you two got a plan?" asked Logan to Max.  
  
"We've talked about it," she acknowledged. "Let me off when we're about 100 yards from the house."  
  
Logan looked at her.  
  
"We've got it covered, Logan," she told him, seeing his expression.  
  
"I know," he replied, "but be careful anyway," he added softly.  
  
Phillip MacFarland leaned forward and tapped Logan on the shoulder. "This is 100 yards from the house. It's the next property down, number fifty- five."  
  
Stopping the car, Logan took his laptop from Max, booted it up and hacked into the surveillance tapes of the house where Byron was being held.  
  
Flicking through the images, with Zack looking over his shoulder and Max leaning in from his right, they did a thorough search of the house.  
  
"There he is." Max pointed to the image of a dressed Byron MacFarland breakfasting at a small table in a bedroom.  
  
"They keep early hours in your family," remarked Max over her shoulder to Phillip.  
  
He managed a wan smile.  
  
"What do you think, Phillip? Definitely two guards?" asked Logan.  
  
Running a hand through his hair, MacFarland shrugged, "I guess so."  
  
Logan then called up a map of the house that pinpointed the location of the bedroom Byron was in.  
  
Going back to the security feeds, the inside guard could be clearly seen outside the bedroom door.  
  
He was a tall, burly individual, and appeared to be heavily armed.  
  
Logan resisted the temptation to make a comment.  
  
"There's gotta be a third man in the security room," added Max, "otherwise no one's viewing the cameras."  
  
Zack nodded, turning questioningly to Phillip.  
  
The other man shrugged as if in a daze. "I guess you're right. I hadn't thought of that."  
  
"Then you'd better start thinking," replied Zack roughly, "because we're risking our lives to get your brother out!"  
  
Phillip seemed to snap out of his languor at that, sitting up a little straighter in the back seat. "You're quite right. I'm sorry," he added as a general comment.  
  
Still concentrating on the screen, Logan said, "I checked out all the security to the house last night. It's not set up for anything major. They're just relying on the cameras and the guards."  
  
"Logan, you can cover the feeds can't you?" asked Max.  
  
Logan nodded briefly, calling up the security feed of the front gate in readiness.  
  
Presently it showed the guard standing immovably behind the huge, elaborate wrought iron gates. With the push of a few buttons, Logan had eradicated the genuine security camera feed, freezing the frame, and leaving a 'still' to be seen by the person monitoring the screen. Fortunately it was a still morning, or this plan wouldn't have worked.  
  
"Give us three minutes inside, then open the gate," Max said to him.  
  
********************************************  
  
Zack was right. The guard on duty at the front of the house was decidedly wet, cold and miserable.  
  
His endless night improved remarkably by the appearance of a breathtakingly beautiful girl.  
  
"Excuse me, can you help me?" she asked.  
  
There was something about her voice that made him think he'd go to the other side of the world to help her if he could.  
  
"I'm sorry ma'am, but I'm unable to leave my post."  
  
"You see, my car broke down, and my father'll have a heart attack if I don't make it home in time," she finished forlornly.  
  
"Look, I'd like to help you..."  
  
"But...?" added Max enticingly.  
  
She stood in front of the wrought iron gates that the guard stood behind.  
  
"My car's just down the street," she cooed.  
  
She could see the guards resolve weaken.  
  
What trouble could there be from this young girl he guessed?  
  
Unlocking the gates, he stepped forward.  
  
"I just don't know how to thank you," Max babbled on in her most beguiling manner, "but what about this?"  
  
The guard barely had time to register his surprise as her fist connected with the side of his jaw. He wasn't going to be eating on that side for some time to come.  
  
Seeing the guard go down, Zack ran up and dragged him quickly back through the gates and tied him up, leaving him hidden from view between some bushes and the fence.  
  
With a quick wave at the security camera as she ran past, knowing that Logan would be watching the genuine feed, Max and Zack continued up the main driveway towards the house.  
  
Trusting that Logan had all the cameras in his control, they headed for the back door, picking the lock and entering the house within seconds.  
  
The house was furnished in the manner of twenty years earlier, and it had the musty smell of being seldom used.  
  
Making their way through the living room, she noticed the picture of a blonde haired woman and two fair-haired boys, each with their arms around their mother in an affectionate embrace. Gazing at it, she felt a pang for the mother she never knew and the lack of love in her own childhood. The smile on the mother's face was infectious.  
  
"Come on," urged Zack, sensing her dawdling.  
  
Hurrying on, they headed up the stairs, Max going first.  
  
With no attempt to conceal herself, she walked up the stairs boldly, calling out, "Hello, anyone there?"  
  
The sudden appearance of a large man with an automatic rifle made her give a gasp of relief, "Oh I'm so glad there's someone home, because I was beginning to think I had the wrong place."  
  
The guard looked at her in surprise, trying to figure out why this beautiful girl was walking up the stairs of the house.  
  
"You shouldn't be in here," he stated brusquely.  
  
By this time Max was on the same level as the guard.  
  
"Doesn't Nicole live here?" she asked with pretty confusion.  
  
The guard knew what to do if a knife-wielding man with a machine gun arrived at the door, but what was he supposed to do with a kooky 'twenty or so' year old.  
  
In spite of all his training, he dropped his guard momentarily, slightly lowering his rifle. It was all Max needed. In two steps, and appearing almost as a blur to the guard, she darted forward, wresting the gun from his hands after an immobilizing karate chop to his forearm.  
  
Zack following behind her, finished off the guard with a well-controlled blow to his head. The man wouldn't be getting up for a while.  
  
Max quickly tried the door to Byron's room, not surprisingly finding it locked.  
  
"Byron, stand back, we're here to get you out," she whispered loudly through the door.  
  
Hearing some sound of assent, she quickly checked the pockets of the guard, standing up triumphantly with a key ring of house keys.  
  
The third one she tried slipped into the keyhole perfectly and turned smoothly, unlocking the door with a slight click.  
  
Opening the door, she walked in to see a bewildered Byron MacFarland staring at her.  
  
"You," he said in amazement.  
  
"You didn't think we'd ditch you, did ya?"  
  
Byron continued to stare at her. "After what my father did to your friend?" he asked in a shocked voice.  
  
Max had a feeling he was missing a few pieces of the puzzle, but knew now wasn't the time to fill him in, so all she said was "Logan's okay and we gotta get outta here right now. Come on."  
  
They were only at the top of the stairs when they heard the sound of a car horn break the silence of the early morning with its raucous noise.  
  
Max and Zack looked at each other quickly. Both assuming it was Logan, they knew it had to be trouble.  
  
***************************************************  
  
Logan kept his eyes glued to the security feeds he had in front of him. There were five cameras in all in the house, including the one at the front gate, and he had ensured that none of them betrayed Max and Zack's presence.  
  
As soon as the three minutes were up, still in the security files, he hacked into the gate control and opened it, swinging the Aztek through the gate and up the driveway, hoping furiously that they hadn't underestimated the time it would take them to get Byron.  
  
There was no sign of Max or Zack, so he turned the car around in readiness to make a quick exit, turning on the wipers as the steady drizzle of the morning 'obligingly' turned to rain.  
  
Glancing back down at the screen, he was horrified to see four heavily armed figures clad in military fatigues rushing down the hallway in the direction of Max and Zack.  
  
Glancing around wildly for inspiration, his eyes lit on the car horn. Without hesitation he pressed it with quick short jabs that spoke of the need for urgency, his eyes never leaving the screen.  
  
Vaguely aware of Phillip MacFarland behind him, Logan's hand stole to the compartment of his door where his gun was hidden.  
  
Max and Zack were within range of the cameras by this point, and Logan could see them racing across the short entrance hall from the stairs heading towards the front door.  
  
Close behind them were their pursuers, guns raised, but so far disinclined to fire, hopefully, Logan thought, because of the presence of Byron MacFarland.  
  
Max and Zack could have easily outstripped the guards, but were hampered by having to slow themselves to the speed of the other man.  
  
Even from his viewpoint, Logan could see that Byron appeared dazed and Logan wondered briefly if his father had drugged him. Whatever the reason, the guards were very nearly upon them, and Logan could only watch the drama unfolding with frustration.  
  
Suddenly, Zack turned to face the guard closest to them, and Logan could see him yelling something at Max, which was probably to run to the car. Logan shook his head in exasperation as he saw Max turn and fight the next guard, taking him down with a vicious kick to his kneecap, and then be immediately grabbed around her throat by the crook of one of the guard's arms.  
  
Byron MacFarland was now running for the door, and in seconds Logan had him in actual sight. The man stood in the doorway for a moment, staring blankly at his surroundings. Aware of a sudden movement behind him, Logan turned to see Phillip jump out and rush to the aid of his brother.  
  
Quickly swinging his attention back to the security feeds, Logan was anxious to find that he could no longer see Max. Zack was still in evidence, as were three of the guards, two lying prone and the third soon to join them as he sank to his knees then finally totally collapsed as he took an X5 chop to the back of his neck. Logan couldn't help wincing in sympathy.  
  
At that moment the front door opened once more, and Logan discovered the whereabouts of the fourth guard. Byron and Phillip had barely cleared the front steps when a figure came hurling through the air from the top of the steps, followed by a particularly satisfied Max who continued on down the steps to ascertain that her victim was not getting up.  
  
"Max, come on," Logan yelled at her, only too keen to get them all out of there.  
  
Turning to see Zack coming out of the house, she hurried forward herself, putting an arm under the elbow of Byron MacFarland, and hustling him into the car.  
  
Max had just run round and slipped into the front passenger seat when Zack appeared at the car.  
  
Slipping his gun back into the door, Logan watched the rear view mirror until Zack was in the car. With the slight skidding of tyres as the wheels took their time to get traction on the fine stones, Logan continued to accelerate hard down the driveway.  
  
****************************************************  
  
"Everyone okay?" asked Logan, still checking his rearview mirror for signs of pursuit.  
  
Logan looked at Max as she turned to smile at him, hair a little wet, her eyes shining with the rush of adrenalin to her body, cheeks slightly flushed, panting a little, her breathing just a fraction faster than usual. He had to admit that there was something incredibly sexy about 'kickin' ass' when it came to Max.  
  
"I'm fine," she murmured to him, deceptively demure.  
  
Logan gave her the hint of a disapproving look, just to prove that he was totally unaffected by her, and that his interest in her well-being was purely platonic, but he had to admit that at times like this, her beauty was a major distraction.  
  
"We're all fine back here," commented Zack, having been aware of the by- play in the front seat.  
  
"That's good," answered Logan, perhaps a little too heartily.  
  
"It seems 'Daddy' was kinda hopin' for some company," Max said, turning to look at Byron and Phillip.  
  
"At least he doesn't want them dead," added Zack. "Those guards could've nailed you if they'd wanted too," he added to the brothers.  
  
Logan nodded. "Shoot to kill was definitely not their command."  
  
"I suppose it's back to the motel?" asked Max, not sounding thrilled with the prospect.  
  
"Nothing but the best," quipped Logan.  
  
********************************************************  
  
Stopping on the way to check that Byron was clean of bugs and tracking devices, and to buy some food, they arrived at the motel shortly after 8am.  
  
The weather hadn't improved, but they were able to get a parking space close to their room.  
  
Pulling up in front of it, Logan reflected it looked even worse by daylight. Aware of Max's accusing eyes on him, he gave her an encouraging smile before she got out to retrieve his chair. "It has a certain 'charm' wouldn't you say?"  
  
"If you're a 'snake' maybe," she suggested  
  
At least it was warm inside, and after spreading their food out on the table and hot drinks had been made, Logan felt it was time to press the MacFarland brothers for some answers.  
  
Byron still seemed confused by the morning's events, and he was particularly upset every time he looked at Logan and was reminded of what his father had almost done to him. It was as if the attack on Logan embodied for him the depths to which his father had sunk, and he wasn't sure he wanted to face it.  
  
"I just don't know what's happened to him," Byron muttered almost to himself. "I don't know the man he's become."  
  
Phillip placed a bracing arm around his younger brother's shoulders and looked at Logan. "We must stop him," he said simply.  
  
Logan nodded. "With your help, we should be able to, but we need some answers."  
  
Both brothers nodded decisively, Byron seeming to gain some strength from his brother's attitude.  
  
"What can we tell you?" he asked with a deep breath.  
  
"When I looked into your father's security files, I kept coming up with a possible major target for tonight. Now, it wasn't clear who it was aimed it. Any idea?"  
  
To Logan's disappointment, both brothers shook their heads.  
  
"What about the Eyes Only rumours?" asked Max, asking the question closest to her heart. "Where did all that crap come from?"  
  
"Eyes Only?" asked Phillip in surprise. "Why are you interested in that?"  
  
Looking at Max momentarily, Logan replied, "Because Melody Banks was a friend of mine."  
  
"I read about her death," acknowledged Byron. "I'm sorry."  
  
"She was killed because she was a track to be covered," Logan explained to them.  
  
Both men looked at Logan with puzzled expressions.  
  
Losing a little bit of patience with their lack of understanding, Max put in edgily, "Someone was paying her big money to report her crap, then they killed her. That simple."  
  
Phillip shook his head. "It just gets worse and worse doesn't it?"  
  
"What do you mean?" asked Logan warily, leaning forward slightly.  
  
Phillip looked at Byron. "Father didn't tell you about this. Only I knew."  
  
"Knew what?" asked Max, ready to shake him.  
  
The older brother looked at Logan. "My father was contacted by someone, I'm not sure who, or how they came to know of my father's plans, but it was essentially that if my father agreed to let Eyes Only be blamed for the attacks, they would provide us with some 'super soldiers'."  
  
At the words 'super soldiers' Max felt a familiar hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach.  
  
Keeping his face composed, Logan said, "What exactly do you mean by 'super soldiers'?"  
  
"They're stronger, faster, tougher than any other men I've seen," answered Phillip.  
  
Zack, who had been keeping watch by the window as the others were talking, now came over to the others. "Did you notice a kind of tattoo on their neck?" he asked bluntly, without looking at Max.  
  
"How did you know about that?" asked Phillip in surprise.  
  
"What did the tattoo look like?" pressed Zack.  
  
"Lines, resembling a barcode you might say."  
  
This time Max looked at Logan. There was so much she wanted to say to him, but couldn't risk with the presence of the MacFarland brothers. Instead, the expression of her eyes spoke volumes – fear, worry, concern but above all contrition. There was only one reason why Manticore would be going after Eyes Only.  
  
Catching her look, Logan shrugged in a dismissive gesture. "Let's just concentrate on putting on end to all this," he remarked to them all.  
  
TBC 


	20. Frustrations

Special thanks to all those who went to the trouble of reviewing – greatly appreciated as ever!!  
  
Thank you as always to my beta, Alaidh, for doing such a great job!!  
  
Chapter 20  
  
"I don't understand why your father would be so willing to destroy Eyes Only?" said Max, "I would've thought he'd be right into all that 'take out the bad guys' stuff."  
  
Phillip MacFarland stood up in an angry gesture. "Oh, I know who's to blame for 'that'," he stated, beginning to walk the floor in his agitation. "Buddy Franklin."  
  
"Otherwise known as Theodore Durant," added Logan.  
  
Phillip looked at him, a brief look of wonderment on his face. "How do you know so much?"  
  
"It's called being a smart-ass," said Max, surreptitiously giving Logan a warning look.  
  
"Buddy Franklin," continued Logan unperturbed, "is a well-known extreme right-wing activist. If he's had your father's ear, there's no telling what garbage he's fed him."  
  
"I overheard my father talking with Franklin one day. At first he said no to the whole idea, but when he found out there was an offer of these 'super soldiers' he said anything would be worth it to achieve his goals."  
  
"And Melody was the meat in the sandwich, holding the whole mess together," sighed Logan bitterly.  
  
"What about the vigilantes themselves?" queried Max, eager to push the conversation in a different direction. "Who are they? Mercenaries?"  
  
Logan looked up at Phillip, who was still restlessly pacing. "I'm guessing some of Franklin's group?"  
  
Phillip nodded again.  
  
"Worse than mercenaries, 'fanatics'," spat out Max with disgust.  
  
"All the more dangerous because they believe in what they're doing," agreed Logan, arms folded, frowning at a particularly ugly still life print of flowers and fruit that was the only art work to adorn the room. Not only was it particularly ugly, but it annoyed him all the more because it hung crookedly on the grimy wall.  
  
"You seeking inspiration?" asked Max, breaking in on his thoughts.  
  
"Yeah," he said dryly.  
  
"It's crooked," said Max, her gaze following Logan's.  
  
"I know," he replied with considerable restraint.  
  
Not being overly particular about such matters, nonetheless she got up and straightened it.  
  
Pulling his gaze away from the print, Logan said, "We've got to find out exactly what it is MacFarland has planned for tonight, before he kills someone else."  
  
"I've got a few ideas in mind," he added, more to Max and Zack.  
  
He noticed that Zack had been noticeably silent since the revelation of the soldiers with barcodes.  
  
Unlocking his brakes, Logan spoke decisively to the brothers, "I'm gonna leave you here. It's the safest place for you both. Your father doesn't know you're here."  
  
Both brothers nodded grimly.  
  
"Have either of you got cell phones on you?"  
  
Only Phillip gave a nod of assent.  
  
"Give it to me. I don't want your father to use it to trace you here. There's a phone here. I'll use that to contact you."  
  
Byron, who'd said virtually nothing since his release, stood up as Logan prepared to leave. "I don't really understand why you're doing all this. I guess you have your reasons, but I don't think 'anyone' would have helped us like you have." His gaze took in Max and Zack as well as he finished  
  
Logan, looking a little uncomfortable with his gratitude merely replied, "Well, let's not start congratulating ourselves yet."  
  
**********************************************  
  
"At least we're starting to make some real progress now," commented Logan to a silent Max and Zack as he started the car.  
  
With raised brows at their lack of response, he murmured, "Is this what they call X5 freeze out?"  
  
Still getting no reply he tried, "I am susceptible to the cold if you remember- extreme icy conditions can be particularly dangerous." He finished with a smile in Max's direction  
  
At any other time, she would have been pleased to hear him joke in that way about himself, taking it as a healthy sign, but this wasn't a normal situation, and instead she turned to him in anger.  
  
"How can you make jokes when we ... 'I'm' to blame," she corrected herself, "for this whole Manticore versus Eyes Only crap!"  
  
Logan nodded his head slightly. "Oh, I see," he replied, knowingly sarcastic. "I thought we'd be getting back to this."  
  
Surprisingly, Zack spoke from the back. "I feel the same way Max does on this. You've put your own life in danger by doing that X5 Eyes Only broadcast. The blame should be mine, Max," he added, speaking earnestly to her. "'I' messed up on that whole deal."  
  
"What, the two of you don't think I'm a big enough boy to make my own decisions?" cut in Logan impatiently. "In case you hadn't noticed, I chose a career path that wasn't especially conducive to a long life well before I'd even heard of Manticore."  
  
"Don't speak like that," said Max quietly, in an urgent tone he'd never heard before.  
  
He looked across at her quickly, but the moment had passed and she had herself well in control.  
  
"Look," he tried again, "I just think it's a waste of time trying to attach blame. I did what I did," and here he looked across at Max, "because 'I' wanted to, and it was no one else's decision."  
  
Max just looked at him. "Have it your own way," she said coldly.  
  
***************************************************  
  
Logan looked up in surprise as he opened the door to his apartment to see Bling standing there.  
  
"We were just leaving," explained his trainer with a smile, motioning with a movement of his head to Riley and Bob, who were standing behind him.  
  
Bling stepped back to let them enter, smiling when he heard Riley's very warm hello to Max.  
  
"Hey, you saved our asses last night," Max told him, kneeling down to ruffle the fur around Bob's neck with her two hands.  
  
Bob thought this was especially nice, panting happily and resting his front paws on Max's knees.  
  
"So, you're leaving us?" smiled Logan at Riley, rightly interpreting the boys look that he wished he were Bob.  
  
"Yeah," responded the other, pulling his eyes away, with difficulty, from the sight at his feet.  
  
"Riley has a friend who's a trucker," put in Bling. "He'll be comin' through Seattle this morning, so I was just about to grab a cab for them to get to the diner where his friend'll be stopping on his way through."  
  
"Take my car," said Logan at once.  
  
"You sure, man?"  
  
"Yeah, it's the least I can do for you," smiled Logan at Riley. "You're a handy young man to have around. You'll have to come and visit some other time when we're not ..."  
  
"Tryin' to save the world?" suggested Max sweetly. Turning to Riley, she said, "Better not wait till then or you'll be an old man before we see you again."  
  
Riley smiled back at her a little nervously. He was absolutely dazzled by her perfection, but daunted by her sophistication – there always seemed to be a strong current of unspoken meaning in her words when she spoke to Logan that he found a little overwhelming to one brought up to let his 'no be no and his yes be yes.'  
  
Watching the look that Logan now gave her, he felt a sense of envy that this man could be so close to the girl he hadn't stopped dreaming about ever since they'd left Morristown, always imagining himself coming to her aid and heroically rescuing her in the face of insurmountable danger.  
  
"'Anyway'..." started Logan, with a final look in Max's direction, "We'd love to have you back in Seattle some day. And Bob too, of course," he added, this time being the 'heroic' one, which made Max's mouth twitch slightly, in spite of the knot in her stomach from the revelation of Manticore's definite involvement.  
  
Logan passed the keys over to Bling as they were heading out the door, then looked around suddenly to Max. "Did you have my laptop?"  
  
Max shook her head, as did Zack.  
  
"I must have left it in the car," mused Logan.  
  
"I'll go down and get it for you," offered Max immediately.  
  
"No, that's okay. I'll go down with the others and grab it," he responded, turning to follow Bling and Riley into the elevator.  
  
Zack saw Max open her mouth as if to say something, but when she saw him watching her she quickly closed it.  
  
"You wanna drink?" she asked airily, going through to the pristine kitchen, her thoughts jumbled. She was mad at Logan for not letting them take responsibility for the Manticore involvement - not that it would make any difference to the outcome, but she would have felt better about things. Then for some perverse reason she was annoyed that Zack had caught her look of concern for Logan. I'm not Logan's mother, she chided herself.  
  
"That MacFarland's a mean guy," commented Zack, to no particular purpose.  
  
"Which one?" asked Max, refusing to be drawn in.  
  
"I don't think he'll be too happy about losing both his sons," continued Zack.  
  
"Yeah, well he'd better get over it," snapped Max coldly.  
  
Trying a more straightforward manner, Zack asked, "You gonna let Logan go down there by himself?"  
  
"Bling's with him," Max answered lightly.  
  
Zack shrugged. If he'd discovered one thing about being in the company of Max and Logan it was that they rarely reacted quite how he would have expected them to.  
  
But then, what do I know about it, he thought cynically. I've never been in love.  
  
********************************************  
  
"So, I take it all went well this morning?" asked Bling, as they rode the elevator down.  
  
"Another MacFarland son has defected to the light side," Logan told him, but with no hint of a smile. He was beginning to feel the pressure of time ticking by and they still had no idea what MacFarland Senior was planning for that night.  
  
"I'll tell you about it when you get back," Logan told him, seeing the questioning look in Bling's eye.  
  
Logan looked round at Riley standing towards the back with a very obedient Bob, who sat unperturbed on the elevator floor.  
  
The elevator door opened, but Bling made them wait a moment while he checked the surrounding area, much to the annoyance of Logan, who by this time was single mindedly formulating a plan to try and discover MacFarland's scheme.  
  
"All clear," said Bling, coming back.  
  
With an ironic raise of his eyebrows indicating he thought this was all a waste of time, Logan wheeled towards his car, with Riley and Bob following behind.  
  
They were half way to the car when Bob began barking wildly, and ran off in the opposite direction.  
  
Logan turned with an annoyed sigh. "Get him Riley," he muttered, continuing on to the car.  
  
"Must be those mice again," said Bling, as he unlocked the door and reached in, bringing out the laptop.  
  
"You heard from Candy?" asked Logan, with the hint of a smile in his eyes behind the glasses.  
  
"No, but I should call around to her apartment and make sure she found her cat," Bling said thoughtfully.  
  
"Well, I'm sure you're worried about it," Logan told him with mock seriousness.  
  
They had to wait some minutes for Riley to get Bob.  
  
"Looks like he's got him under control, more or less," Bling said, as they watched the boy returning.  
  
"More less than more, I'd say," remarked Logan.  
  
Riley returned at that point with a recalcitrant Bob, shepherding him with difficulty into the car. "Sorry," he said with an apologetic smile at the other two.  
  
"No problem," answered Bling. "We've been told there are mice down here."  
  
"Bob, shut up!" roared Riley at the dog, who was now barking profusely.  
  
Wondering if Bling would still work for him after subjecting him to the noise of such a large dog barking in his ear, Logan gave him a sympathetic goodbye and headed back to the elevator.  
  
************************************************  
  
"He sure is loud," commented Bling to Riley, his own deep voice booming to be heard over the barking as they turned into the street.  
  
"I can't understand why he's goin' on like this," said Riley, shaking his head. "He's normally pretty ..." 'quiet' was the last word he had been going to say, but instead he grabbed Bling's arm urgently.  
  
"You gotta turn back!"  
  
Without question, and quickly checking for traffic, Bling swung the Aztek in a tight circle and headed back into the parking lot.  
  
"There!" yelled Riley, pointing furiously as they came to where they'd left Logan. "That's him."  
  
***********************************************  
  
Logan got to the elevator just as the doors closed and the contraption headed up without him.  
  
He glared at the elevator doors balefully, cursing them and life in general because he was fast falling into that sort of a mood. "Dammit," he muttered, as he thought of how close they were to outing MacFarland and his gang of fanatics, and how frustratingly little his two sons actually knew. Their father had certainly played his cards very close to his chest where those two were concerned.  
  
Logan had just wheeled back a little from the doors in case there was someone coming down who'd need to exit, when his ears picked up the soft thud of a footstep, as if someone were trying to muffle the sound.  
  
Logan looked back to the elevator. According to the floor indicator lights, it was only beginning its descent.  
  
He was so single-mindedly set on the task before him of uncovering MacFarland's plans, that all he could feel was frustration. I just don't have time for this, he muttered under his breath as he looked around. The area appeared to be deserted.  
  
The sound of a car screeching into the area made him turn his head, and in spite of his earlier thoughts, a look or relief swept his features. The sensation was unfortunately of short duration, as a voice worryingly close to him grated, "Cale! Get over here, now..."  
  
"Now!" the voice urged, in an even more threatening tone.  
  
With something that was a cross between a grunt and a sigh, Logan began to swing slowly around when the fury that was Bob leapt from the Aztek, and with a snarl, launched himself at the man holding a gun on Logan.  
  
Completely unprepared for the attack, the man took his eyes off Logan, crying out in pain as sharp teeth sank deep into his leg.  
  
Seeing his opportunity, Logan reached forward and grabbed at the gun in his attacker's hands. He almost had it when the man, who had been so preoccupied with the dog biting him, realized what he was up to, and tightening his grip on it, brought his gun up high, preparing to crash it down on Logan's skull.  
  
The man was hampered by several things: Bob, who still held him painfully in a vice-like grip, Logan, on seeing his intention, desperately trying to push himself away from the arc of the man's arm, and thirdly, Max, who had come down in the elevator, finally unable to take the suspense of not knowing why Logan was taking so long, slamming her foot into the man's ribcage, which was the deciding factor in him dropping the gun and sinking to the ground, now oblivious to Bob's bite because the pain of three broken ribs was so much greater.  
  
"Call him off," called Logan to Riley as he and Bling ran up, looking down with distaste at the man who now lay moaning at his feet.  
  
"Bob, here boy," said Riley.  
  
Bob looked up at Riley, and apparently sensing that his job was completed, he happily trotted over to Riley's side.  
  
"Bob to the rescue," smiled Max.  
  
"Riley actually," put in Bling. "He's the one who figured out why Bob was barking."  
  
"Well, I remembered the only time I'd seen him go off like that was the day I met Logan in Morristown, and he was barking at the man you thought might have killed Charlie."  
  
Riley felt himself go very red as he found Max's eyes on him, her face wreathed in a wide smile of gratitude, murmuring to him quietly as if it were just their secret, "Looks like I owe you one."  
  
Logan, who was feeling decidedly ambivalent about being rescued by a dog, was contemplating their captive as the elevator opened once more and this time Zack came out. "Why don't we make it a party," he commented, looking anything but thankful.  
  
Bling, reading the tone, ushered Riley and Bob back over to the car. "We'd better get going or you'll miss your lift."  
  
"Aren't you gonna thank him?" Max asked Logan, as the boy turned to go.  
  
"Yeah, thanks," he responded, with the distracted air that Max knew meant all he was thinking about was getting back in front of his computers.  
  
With a sideways glance at Logan, Max stopped Riley as he was about to get in the car.  
  
"I said I owed you one," she reminded him, leaning in to kiss him, at first with the intention of kissing him on the cheek, but at the last moment, and aware that a certain person was watching, she changed it to a quick, but soft kiss on the lips. After all, she thought, he did deserve something special for saving Logan.  
  
"Thanks again," she whispered in his ear.  
  
Too tongue tied to talk, and now blushing more furiously than ever, Riley could only manage to wave goodbye, as a very amused Bling drove off. The boy couldn't help but think that while he hadn't saved Max, saving Logan had proven to be almost as rewarding.  
  
Max turned to find both Logan and Zack regarding her, each with a small frown.  
  
"D'you think you should be leading him on like that?" asked Logan evenly.  
  
Blithely ignoring his remark, she turned her attention to the man still groaning at their feet.  
  
"What are we gonna do with this fine example of scum?"  
  
"If you two haul him upstairs, I'll contact Matt Sung and see if he can use him."  
  
"Fine," said Max brightly, Logan's reaction not lost on her.  
  
***************************************************  
  
"Do you have a name?" Max asked the pile of misery that lay moaning on Logan's sofa, his view of Logan's study hidden by the closed translucent panels.  
  
The man refused to even turn his head in her direction.  
  
"I guess he's sensitive about being taken down by a girl," commented Logan, getting off the phone from Matt Sung. "How does the name Walter Zarb suit you?"  
  
Max saw the man look at Logan with something like fear in his eyes.  
  
"Things are lookin' up. Matt was able to trace the prints on the gun we gave him. The gun we took off 'you' in Morristown," he added, directing his last words to the injured man. "Looks like you've been a bad boy."  
  
"Matt has something on him?" asked Max.  
  
"The prints belonged to one Walter Zarb. Wanted for murder, theft and who knows what else. Matt's happy to go with the first two for starters."  
  
"Great. Even if we don't get him for Charlie's death, at least he'll be up for murder," commented Max with satisfaction.  
  
Wheeling closer to Zarb, who, for all his pain, still managed to look at Logan with something very like hate, he said, "What do you know about MacFarland's plans for a major assault tonight?"  
  
"You think I'd tell you, even if I knew?" ground out the other man.  
  
"Well, I would think things just may go a little easier for you with the detective who we're gonna deliver you to if you help his investigation," suggested Logan.  
  
"Go to hell," spat Zarb, looking at Logan as if he'd like to get up and thump him one.  
  
Max, who'd been standing next to Logan, hands on her hips, decided she didn't like his attitude. "We don't have time to mess around with your tough-ass stunt. Now either you tell us what you know, or I'm adding to the pain in your side."  
  
Looking into her eyes, Zarb had no doubt she wouldn't make good her threat. He felt a fresh wave of sweat breaking out on his face.  
  
"MacFarland told me nothing. I was hired by Buddy Franklin."  
  
Logan leaned forward saying intently, "It was Buddy Franklin who arranged Charlie's death?"  
  
Zarb clammed up on that one. He had no intention of admitting to a murder he hadn't been charged with.  
  
Logan looked at Max, about to speak, then swung his attention to the door as Bling came in.  
  
"Dropped Riley and Bob off okay," he remarked to Logan, looking at Zarb with interest.  
  
"Great." To Max, Logan said, "We're not gonna get any more out of him. I need you to take Zarb and meet Matt at the same place where you dropped the gun to him."  
  
"Fine," replied Max curtly, noting the absence of 'please' or 'thank you', which indicated Logan was at his most obsessive.  
  
"I'll go with her," put in Zack, who had watched the questioning of Zarb from the window.  
  
Logan didn't answer or wait for them to leave before heading back to his computers. He was desperate to check his Informant Net to find out if any one had any lead on MacFarland's intentions.  
  
Bling handed Max the keys to the Aztek, then held the door open for them as she and Zack, none too gently, dragged Zarb from the sofa, and hustled him downstairs to the car.  
  
*****************************************************  
  
Max and Zack had to wait some time for Matt Sung, who was most apologetic when he showed.  
  
"Sorry, I'm snowed under doing the security for a conference, just couldn't get away."  
  
"That's fine, Matt," Max assured him.  
  
"He looks a bit worse for wear," remarked the detective, looking at Zarb, who sagged uncomfortably between the two.  
  
"He had a gun at Logan's head. There wasn't much time for finesse."  
  
Matt looked at Zack, assuming he'd done the damage.  
  
Opening his car door, he first handcuffed Zarb, then bundled him inside with Zack's help.  
  
Standing back a little so that he could keep the prisoner in his sight, he said, "Tell Logan I've done what I can, but I've found no word on the street that pinpoints to what this MacFarland is up to, and I can't spare the manpower to look into it." He sighed, shaking his head.  
  
"I'll let him know," Max assured him.  
  
"I hate to leave him on his own with this," Matt continued in a worried voice, "but my hands are tied."  
  
Max shook her head. "No big dealio. We got it covered."  
  
"Yeah, well," and he paused, "I'd sure like this whole thing cleared up," he said with meaning to Max.  
  
So would I, thought Max to herself as Matt Sung drove off.  
  
***********************************************************  
  
"Anything?" Max asked Logan as she and Zack strolled back into his apartment, heading in to where he sat at his computer.  
  
"Don't ask," he replied with a grunt of disgust.  
  
"Not one lead?" she asked incredulously.  
  
Logan studied the screen with a particularly harassed look that spoke volumes.  
  
"How is it that no one knows MacFarland's deal?"  
  
"Go figure," replied Logan, jabbing with particular force on the keyboard.  
  
"You tried the 'Brothers Grimm' again?" she suggested.  
  
Unlocking his brakes, Logan swung around to face her. "'I' have tried 'everything'," he told her, his frustration fast turning to anger. "'Nobody' has any intelligence about a meet of even shoplifters, let alone crime lords."  
  
"Well, the shop owners should be happy," tried Max.  
  
The look he threw her way before swinging back to the screen, and locking the brakes he'd only just taken off, told her that he'd gone past inane jokes quite some time ago.  
  
"You said you tried the MacFarland brothers again?" asked Zack.  
  
"Oh yeah," muttered Logan, stabbing at the keys in his quest for a lead. "Those boys must have walked around with paper bags over their heads."  
  
Max suddenly had a horrible suspicion. "Logan, you don't think we've been had again?" she said urgently.  
  
Logan paused, his right hand now on the mouse, closing his eyes with a grimace.  
  
"I've thought about that," he admitted.  
  
"But you don't think so," said Max, pre-empting him.  
  
"I don't think so," he agreed, then added, "'think' in this case being the optimum word."  
  
"For what it's worth, I bought their story," said Zack quietly.  
  
"So did I," admitted Max.  
  
"Which brings us back to square 'one' – who is MacFarland's target?"  
  
Max looked at the time on her pager. "We've still got five hours."  
  
"Might as well be five minutes if I can't figure this out."  
  
******************************************************  
  
Logan's phone was busy for the rest of the afternoon as his various informants called in, but among all of them, there was not one single solid lead to go on. It was as if crime had taken a holiday for the next few days.  
  
"I need to get my bike from the motel," said Max a few hours later, coming in with coffee for him. "Mind if we use your car? Bling's offered to drive me."  
  
"Fine," answered Logan, gratefully drinking the hot liquid.  
  
"Zack'll stay here with you," she added inconsequentially.  
  
"Right," agreed Logan, scrolling down the screen and letting some of his annoyance show as he said, "What, now that Bob's not here you mean? What are your teeth like, Zack?"  
  
Ignoring his comments, Max called to Bling and headed down in the elevator.  
  
****************************************************  
  
By the time Max got back, they were down to one hour, and Logan had virtually given up. His body was certainly giving up, he thought.  
  
"Bling's headed home," she commented as she came in, then added, "I talked to Byron and Phillip. Not a clue," she finished succinctly. "They did tell me that their father hated gangs, criminals generally, syndicate men, crime lords, politicians and you'll love the last one: journalists.  
  
Logan looked up at her as one confused. "What was the last bit?"  
  
"They told me that MacFarland doesn't like journalists. Apparently the reporting of his wife's death really pissed him off."  
  
"No, before that," said Logan, speaking slowly as if the gears in his mind were turning slowly.  
  
"Politicians?"  
  
Logan gave her such a look that for a moment she thought he was having a relapse from the drug that had been injected into him.  
  
"Why didn't they tell us this before??" said Logan tensely, grabbing his phone and saying to Max and Zack as he waited for the other end to pick up, "Matt Sung is doing the security for the Governor's Convention."  
  
"Damn," stated Max, Logan's previous expression mirrored in her eyes.  
  
"Phillip?" Logan spoke curtly into the phone.  
  
Max looked across at Zack as they both waited for Logan to finish his conversation. The same thought in both their minds, "This was bad."  
  
Logan hung up, then immediately dialled Matt Sung's number. With yet another grunt of annoyance, he turned to Max, "I just tried getting a hold of Matt - he's not answering."  
  
"What did Phillip MacFarland say?" asked Max.  
  
"Apparently his father blames government corruption for the present state of affairs. Phillip tells me it was one of his pet hates." Venting his frustration with yet another annoyed sigh as he pushed redial for Matt's number, he added, "Why didn't they tell us this before? I've spent all day chasing the wrong leads."  
  
He looked up at them as he hung up the phone. There was still no answer from Matt Sung.  
  
"I need you to get down there ASAP," he told them urgently. "The conference is at the Seattle Convention Center."  
  
Without hesitation they grabbed their jackets and headed for the door.  
  
"And Max," called Logan to her as they were nearly out, "be careful."  
  
TBC  
  
. 


	21. Decisions

Firstly my apologies for taking so long in getting this to you, but my beta has been very busy and then had some technical problems. The final chapter is written and hopefully I'll have it to you soon.  
  
Thanks once more for all those kind enough to review - you have made me very happy!!  
  
And my thanks to Alaidh for the beta particularly when I know she's so busy!!!  
  
Chapter 21  
  
"Sorry. No one's allowed in ma'am."  
  
Max stared up at the policeman with impatience.  
  
"It's important we see Detective Matt Sung. We have an urgent message for him," she argued.  
  
The burly policeman looked unmoved. "I have my orders."  
  
Max turned to Zack with a look of frustration. Matt Sung was in there somewhere, and they couldn't get to him to warn him of the potential threat.  
  
The security was tight at the Convention Center. Police covered all entrances, and passes had to be shown to gain access.  
  
Zack looked at his watch, feeling the same pressure Max felt. "We've only got five minutes to go."  
  
"There's gotta be a way in here somewhere," she responded, eyes scanning the building desperately. It was a four storey, modern edifice, opened some ten years earlier, just before the pulse hit. As such, it was designed for controlled conditions, not the vagaries of Seattle weather through open windows. The only way in would be to use one of the doors, or enter from the rooftop, and with the current level of security, that would be almost impossible.  
  
They hadn't been permitted any closer than the entrance to the parking lot, where they still sat on Max's bike as they examined their options.  
  
The parking lot was filled with official and expensive looking cars. Immediately in front of the Center itself was a television news van, the TV reporter apparently getting ready to do his broadcast.  
  
The ringing of Zack's phone made Max turn and look at him as he took it out and answered. "Logan," he mouthed at her.  
  
Max held her hand out imperatively for the device, which Zack gave to her after a moment's hesitation.  
  
"Whatcha got?" she asked tersely.  
  
"Governor's arriving by car at 8. I've checked the security feeds - nothing happening inside."  
  
"That's it?"  
  
"Best I can do," she heard him admit. "Security for this place is tighter than a drum."  
  
"Tell me about it."  
  
Without another word, she passed the phone back to Zack.  
  
"We need some sort of diversion to get in there," she suggested, horribly aware of the time flying by.  
  
More police had come out in preparation for the Governor's arrival, and the news team now had their cameraman out, the reporter furiously puffing on a cigarette, as if to finish it before the official car arrived.  
  
"Let's park," said Zack. "If we're gonna try to get inside, we'll have to do it now."  
  
Max nodded, driving back out to park on the side of the road. It was the closest they could get.  
  
"We could try around the back while everyone's concentrating on the arrival out front," Max suggested.  
  
Zack agreed with a nod. They had just gotten off the bike and were walking past the front of the building along the pavement in order to find a way around the side when the Governor and his entourage of two other cars arrived.  
  
They stood barely fifty yards from the impressive entrance where the cars had stopped, when a black van came screeching into the driveway of the Convention Center, knocking down the security barricade and stopping suddenly by the governor's car, who had yet to get out.  
  
Max watched the proceedings with a bad feeling, morbidly fascinated by the inevitability of the scene before her.  
  
She now knew with certainty they had been too late.  
  
The back doors of the van burst open as it stopped at the three official cars, revealing a dozen men who jumped out, flak jackets on, machine guns at the ready.  
  
Their targets had no chance at all as the machine guns raked the vehicle relentlessly.  
  
The news reporter, even though he had puffed so furiously earlier, had no opportunity to finish his cigarette. It fell from his bloody hand, hitting the ground mere fractions of a second before his lifeless body did.  
  
Max saw the cameraman turn around, a look of terror on his face, but it was the only reaction he had time for.  
  
The sound technician attempted to run to the news van for cover, but Max could see the bullet holes that formed a neat line the length of his back against his white shirt.  
  
It was all ever in less than a minute.  
  
She looked at Zack, trying to make sense of what she'd seen, but he grabbed her by the arm and stared with an intensity that frightened her.  
  
Following his intent stare, she felt her own breath catch in her throat.  
  
It was Donald Lydecker.  
  
Instinctively they both shrank further into the shadow of the bush they were standing near, and watched as he deployed his soldiers.  
  
One of them opened the door of the bullet-riddled TV van, and cautiously looked inside before entering.  
  
Another man checked the bodies of the fallen reporter and cameraman. Max doubted very much they would ever pose a threat again.  
  
The ringing of Zack's phone cut the now eerily quiet scene outside the Convention Center.  
  
"Yeah," he spoke into it curtly.  
  
"What's happening?" It was Logan.  
  
"Just Lydecker up to his old tricks again," said Zack coldly, before handing it over to Max.  
  
"Logan,"  
  
"Max, you're okay?" She could hear the relief in his voice.  
  
"I'm fine, but it turns out MacFarland has been sleeping with the enemy."  
  
Max turned suddenly, surprised to see Zack slump to the ground. Within seconds, she had joined him.  
  
A tall, silver haired man took the cell phone from her grasp, and held it up to his own ear, listening intently. When he heard no noise, he murmured into the device, "Logan Cale I presume?"  
  
***************************************************************  
  
Logan had furiously worked on hacking into the security for the Convention Center as soon as Max and Zack had left, checking Matt Sung's phone at regular intervals, but it continued to ring unanswered.  
  
Eventually, he'd been able to access the security, but had found nothing suspicious or untoward, which he reflected, was exactly as he would have expected it – professionals don't leave glaringly obvious signs announcing their intentions.  
  
He called Zack's number to pass on the only information he could find: the Governor's car would be arriving at 8pm.  
  
Flicking through the security camera feeds, Logan missed the entrance of the black van as it swung into the driveway, but caught it as the men poured out of the back.  
  
He watched with the same morbid fascination that Max and Zack had as he saw them open fire on the TV news van, reporter, cameraman and sound technician.  
  
This was definitely not what he had expected.  
  
Grabbing his cell, he quickly pressed re-dial, eyes glued to the screen as he waited the few seconds for Zack to pick up.  
  
"What's happening?"  
  
At the mention of Lydecker's name, Logan felt his mind reeling, then Max was on and all he could think of to say for the second was, "Max, you're okay." The thought of Lydecker's presence in the very area where he had sent her had filled him with a sense of dread.  
  
Max's reply about MacFarland sleeping with the enemy came back clearly to him, and he was trying to ascertain in his mind the truth of the statement when another voice came on the line.  
  
"Logan Cale I presume?"  
  
Logan's gaze flew from the screen, wholly absorbed now in the voice that came over the phone. It was Stuart MacFarland.  
  
Without hesitation he asked the question that concerned him most. "Where's Max?"  
  
"Tell me where my sons are," the other man snapped back.  
  
Logan's eyes focused on some point above his computer, but his mind was intent on processing the ramifications of MacFarland's words.  
  
"I won't tell you anything until I know they're okay," Logan replied with a calmness he was far from feeling.  
  
"For the moment they're fine, but their continued good health depends on you," the voice responded.  
  
MacFarland spoke quickly now, with a deadly urgency. "I want my sons. Tell me where they are, and I'll meet you there."  
  
"What's to stop you from killing my friends as soon as I give you the address," Logan spat back at him, one hand checking the security feeds in a desperate attempt to locate MacFarland, but the older man's next words brought his attention fully back to the phone.  
  
"We have a gun aimed at the girls thigh. If you don't give me the address immediately, we will shoot her – left leg first, then right."  
  
"No!" The single word sprang from his lips almost involuntarily.  
  
"I'm counting to three," said MacFarland.  
  
Logan gave him the address before he got to 'two'.  
  
"You're a wise man. Meet us there if you want your friends back. Come alone and unarmed," MacFarland finished peremptorily, then hung up.  
  
Logan took the phone from his ear and stared at it intently, as if somehow he would find inspiration there.  
  
For a second his fear for Max's safety held him immobile, and a sickening feeling of guilt washed over him because her predicament was his fault.  
  
His eyes went to the drawer where he kept his gun, and for a moment he hesitated, then making up his mind decisively, he picked up not the gun, but his cell phone, and pushed away from his computer, grabbing his car keys from the hall table as he headed for the door.  
  
**************************************************************  
  
With dismay, Logan saw a line of cars before him as he drove up to the sector checkpoint.  
  
Looking at the clock on the dashboard, he estimated he still had another forty minutes to travel after this point to get to the motel that was located on the opposite side of town to where he lived. MacFarland, coming from the Convention Center, would be able to cover the distance in half that time. Logan could only hope that MacFarland faced a long line at the checkpoint he would have to pass through.  
  
His eyes went to the cell phone that he'd tossed on the passenger seat when he'd got in the car.  
  
He knew there was no excuse – he had more than ample time to call the MacFarland brothers while waiting at the checkpoint; he could give them the chance to get away, but where would that leave Max and Zack?  
  
What would MacFarland do if his sons weren't at the motel when he arrived?  
  
'I don't even know MacFarland's intentions,' he worried, knuckles white on the steering wheel as he watched the line of cars ahead of him refuse to move no matter how much he willed it. 'Maybe he intends to kill his sons as well?' his mind raced on with increasing pessimism.  
  
The one thing he 'was' sure of was that Byron and Phillip had put their trust in him in exchange for the truth. No matter how difficult it was, he felt he simply couldn't let their father turn up on them unannounced.  
  
He looked at the phone again, but it wasn't the face of the MacFarland brothers he saw in his mind.  
  
Another car moved through the checkpoint. That left three in front of him.  
  
Logan stared through the front windshield for several minutes, but his conscience was working overtime.  
  
He picked up his cell.  
  
**********************************************************  
  
It was a good forty-five minutes later before Logan at last pulled up outside the motel.  
  
The wait at the sector point had seemed interminable and it was only with a huge effort that he had managed to hang on to his quickly disappearing patience, which Bling could testify was never his strong point at the best of times, in order to not aggravate the sector police further.  
  
Possibly because of the incident at the Convention Center, they were checking all vehicles with a fine-tooth comb. "Just as well I didn't bring the gun," he murmured under his breath as they did a disturbingly thorough check of the Aztek.  
  
The only concession granted to Logan was, after some initial debate, he was allowed to remain in his car while it was being checked, unlike the other unfortunate people who had to stand about in the drizzling rain. He breathed a sigh of relief for the unexpected thoughtfulness of the sector cop on duty when time was so precious.  
  
"Move on please, sir," said the sector cop, waving him through.  
  
Barely noticing the unusually polite tone, Logan kept his thoughts well and truly focused on getting to the motel as he muttered a silent prayer that Stuart MacFarland had been delayed as well.  
  
****************************************************  
  
Finally the dismal lights of the motel appeared ahead, and he turned into the driveway, mentally promising that if they got out of this mess, he'd never subject Max to such a depressing fleapit again.  
  
As soon as he stopped the car at the motel, a crack of light appeared in the doorway of the room where the two brothers were holed up, and a man came out and headed straight towards him. Logan, observing the gun the man held in his right hand, figured this wasn't a social visit.  
  
"Is this how you greet all your guests?" Logan asked him as he opened his door.  
  
"Just get outta the car," the man replied calmly. Logan had a feeling he'd heard that voice before, but it was too dark to see his face.  
  
The man stayed at his back so Logan had to reach forward and open the door to the motel room, instinctively bracing himself for a blow to the head as he wheeled in. 'Happens that way in the movies,' he mused darkly.  
  
Thankfully his skull remained intact, and the first person he saw was Stuart MacFarland standing in front of him, the gun in his hand pointed directly at Logan.  
  
Max and Zack both lay in an unconscious heap on the double bed while Phillip and Byron stood to the right of their father.  
  
Logan ignored the three MacFarlands and headed straight for Max, taking her wrist and quickly checking her pulse. With relief, he found it felt strong and steady, as was Zack's.  
  
Logan then spun slowly back to MacFarland. "I kept my end of the bargain," he commented with a slight edge to his voice.  
  
"I never thought you wouldn't," acknowledged the father.  
  
"Looks like things didn't quite go to plan tonight at the Convention Center," Logan remarked disparagingly.  
  
"How much of that was your doing?" MacFarland asked silkily.  
  
Logan shook his head, asserting honestly, "I was as surprised as you when that went down ... if you were surprised," he added thoughtfully.  
  
He could see MacFarland staring at him closely, as if to ascertain whether he were telling the truth or not.  
  
"It did seem like an extreme way to prove your dissatisfaction with the media," Logan continued, as his mind pleaded insistently for Max to wake up.  
  
"You're a real barrel of laughs," the man who had followed Logan in from the car, said derisively.  
  
"And 'you' are clumsy serving wine," returned Logan evenly, remembering where he'd seen the man and wondering at the same time just how long he could keep the two of them talking.  
  
"What do you intend to do with them, Father?" asked Phillip, stepping forward a little.  
  
Logan leaned back in his chair, almost nonchalantly, as he waited for the reply.  
  
MacFarland Senior regarded Logan carefully. Eventually he said, "It's a pity you know so much."  
  
"Yeah?" questioned Logan sarcastically. "Like how you trained your little force at Morristown, and how Buddy Franklin, alias Theodore Durant arranged for the murder of the camp cook by Walter Zarb, who, by the way, is presently in police custody to face a murder charge."  
  
Logan paused momentarily to check the effect of his words on MacFarland. The man looked suitably chastened.  
  
"Then there was your rather glaringly bad judgement in allowing a government agency to bribe you into accepting their 'super soldiers' in return for agreeing to keep your mouth shut and letting Eyes Only take the rap for whatever particular 'sanitize the world' plan you had in mind. You really thought you could keep your attack on the Governor a secret?" he asked with something like scorn.  
  
MacFarland considered Logan overall with dislike but coupled it with a hint of admiration. "It would appear your Uncle severely underestimated your capabilities," he remarked thoughtfully, "but then Jonas was always a fool in such matters."  
  
"You will have observed by the timing of the attack that we did 'almost' achieve our objective in taking out the Governor," MacFarland added with almost a touch of pride.  
  
"Well, I can see you're quite traumatized by the deaths of your comrades," added Logan with quick sarcasm, desperate to keep the older man's attention on him and not on the bed.  
  
Apparently Logan's comment touched a raw spot, because MacFarland suddenly sprang forward at Logan, his hand raised to strike, when both sons reached forward and grabbed him.  
  
Logan wheeled back instinctively, only to be brought up short by MacFarland's security chief, who savagely dug his gun hard into Logan's back between his shoulder blades with enough force to make him wince.  
  
"You've got a real smart mouth, don't you?" growled Fleischer menacingly, making Logan think of Bob with more warmth than he had before. Being rescued by a dog suddenly seemed like a great idea.  
  
"Put the gun down, Fleischer," said Byron, in the tone of one used to giving orders.  
  
Fleischer looked across at his boss, waiting for his lead.  
  
Logan felt the gun removed, and sat back, relaxing his shoulders, wondering why Phillip MacFarland kept surreptitiously looking at his watch.  
  
"You haven't said what you intend to do with Logan and the others," Phillip said to his father.  
  
"You don't need to bother yourself with that," the older man said dismissively.  
  
"Yes – we do," countered Byron seriously.  
  
"Do you want to see your father finish the rest of his days in jail? I'm sorry boys, I'm not happy about this situation either, but I'll do what has to be done," he finished grimly.  
  
*******************************************************  
  
Max had woken from the effects of the dart that had been fired into her by Fleischer in time to hear Logan give his condensed account of MacFarland's wrongdoings.  
  
Her head hurt a little, and she had a strange taste in her mouth, but other than that, she felt okay.  
  
The difficult thing was to open her eyes and assess the situation without being seen by Stuart MacFarland or the other man.  
  
Thankfully, neither she nor Zack had been tied or handcuffed. It was now a case of waiting for the perfect opportunity.  
  
She could sense Logan's intention of keeping the other man talking but she very nearly jumped up when she took a quick peek and saw MacFarland lunging at Logan, only to be held back by his sons.  
  
Thankful for the attention Logan was purposefully keeping on himself, she waited and listened, aware that Zack's breathing had subtly changed in the last few minutes.  
  
One of her hands lay on his knee, and she was able to very gently give him a warning pinch. She felt his knee move slightly in answer. Now, all they had to do was wait for the right time.  
  
***********************************************************  
  
"You intend to kill them?" asked Byron with horror. "What's happened to you?"  
  
Apparently MacFarland found the look of disgust on his son's face disturbing, as he quickly looked away and shifted his attention back to Logan.  
  
Logan stared up at him warily.  
  
"You've turned both my sons against me?" MacFarland asked him in a tone Logan didn't like.  
  
"At least I didn't sign their death warrants."  
  
MacFarland looked at him with suspicion. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"Do you think a government agency is gonna let you walk free with the knowledge that they came in on your deal in order to discredit Eyes Only?"  
  
Logan saw the man's eyes widen slightly.  
  
"No, they're gonna want you and your sons dead so that they can continue to perpetrate their lie."  
  
The inevitability of his situation was not lost on Stuart MacFarland. He looked quickly across at his two sons, and to both of them it appeared as though their father had aged ten years in as many seconds.  
  
Once more, Phillip consulted his watch, then quickly looked across at Logan, his eyes briefly meeting Logan's with an unspoken meaning.  
  
Logan, sitting with both hands on the wheels of his chair, was aware of Fleischer still standing closely behind him.  
  
"Father, there's something we need to tell you," said Phillip in an uneasy voice.  
  
Logan didn't wait. It seemed the best opportunity he had.  
  
As Stuart MacFarland turned his attention to his son, Logan quickly grabbed his wheels and propelled himself backwards as quickly and as hard as he could in the direction of Fleischer.  
  
The security man was caught by surprise, but managed to save himself from falling backwards with a quick movement to the side that had him facing away from the bed  
  
Max and Zack were up in a flash.  
  
It only took Zack two blows to disarm MacFarland, while Max came up behind Fleischer and grabbed him around the neck with a hold that threatened to cut off his airway.  
  
"Put the gun down or I snap your neck," she snapped through clenched teeth, focusing on applying the pressure.  
  
Fleischer hesitated for a mere second, but on feeling the pain in his neck increase, he quickly dropped the gun at Logan's feet.  
  
As Logan bent to pick it up, Max whispered in the ear of Fleischer, "By the way, you're a lousy waiter." To emphasize her point, she let loose of his throat, and delivered a vindictive karate chop to the back of his neck  
  
As Logan sat up, he was mildly surprised to see Fleischer drop and hit the ground with a force that said it was going to be a while before he served wine again.  
  
"Games up, MacFarland," said Max with relish, turning to the stunned man.  
  
Unexpectedly, Byron rushed forward and turned on the TV.  
  
One of Seattle's most well-known and respected journalists, Graham Macy, appeared on the screen.  
  
Without preamble he said in his grave 'news reader' voice, "You are about to hear a phone interview I did a short while ago with Phillip and Byron MacFarland."  
  
Stuart MacFarland swung to look at his sons, then as if he was under some sort of hypnotic trance, he turned slowly back to the screen in time to hear Macy say, "...called me to give their report on the events that have been happening the last week and to respond to the rumours that Eyes Only had gone on a vigilante-like crusade to eradicate corruption from our city."  
  
Logan found himself staring very intently at the screen.  
  
"This interview is unedited and will be heard in its entirety."  
  
The voice of Phillip MacFarland could now be heard clearly on the line. "Graham, my brother and I have irrefutable evidence that Eyes Only has not been behind any vigilante movement. It has, in fact, been carried out by my father, Stuart MacFarland, who has misguidedly held the belief that he could diminish the pain of my mother's death by eradicating those who, in some way, contributed to it."  
  
The silence in the motel room was almost tangible as they all watched enthralled, save Zack who continued to watch MacFarland, prepared for any contingency.  
  
Byron looked at his father, saw the sunken look to his features and could bear it no longer. He reached forward and turned the TV off.  
  
"Suffice it to say we told the whole story," he said quietly, "except the part about the super soldiers and the government involvement. We had no way of substantiating that," he said almost apologetically to Logan.  
  
"You did this after I called you?" asked Logan with some amazement.  
  
The brothers nodded, almost as one, as their father sank into one of the lumpy armchairs that were a far cry from the luxury leather ones of his mansion.  
  
"It was the only way we could think of putting an end to all this," said Phillip bitterly, with a look towards his father. "We both realized we'd lost him."  
  
Max stood beside Logan, trying to comprehend the selflessness of their action.  
  
"We called a friend of ours who's a policeman. He'll be here in fifteen minutes," added Byron.  
  
Logan looked at the both of them, not knowing for the moment what to say.  
  
It was Zack who broke the silence. To Logan he said, "You know they'll come after them," nodding towards the brothers, "and they won't stop till they're dead."  
  
Logan nodded grimly. "He's right unfortunately. Even though you haven't mentioned their involvement, the government agency your father was dealing with is absolutely ruthless in terms of protecting its secrecy."  
  
Max urgently whispered in Logan's ear. "You could get them away, out of the country."  
  
Logan studied their father. The man seemed to have completely collapsed with the revelation of the defection of his sons, and even worse, their denouncing of his plans. He was a dead man anyway, Logan reflected, either by Lydecker or by the slower death of a tormented conscience. Neither option appeared to be a pleasant one.  
  
Surely his sons deserved better.  
  
He knew Zack was right; they would never be safe in their own country, not for a long time at least.  
  
"How much time do we have?" Max asked them.  
  
"About ten minutes, I'd say," replied Phillip.  
  
"I have contacts who can arrange to get you and Byron out of the country," said Logan.  
  
He saw the other man's hesitation.  
  
"I know neither one of you is entirely innocent, but I do know that you won't be allowed to live long enough to even make your trial."  
  
At that, Phillip and Byron exchanged glances, and Phillip turned to Logan, nodding his agreement.  
  
Both brothers studiously avoided looking at their father – it was as if he no longer existed.  
  
"We'd better tie them up before we go," suggested Max.  
  
Zack looked around and grabbed the cord from the faded and stained curtains, tossing one to Max and using the other to tie up MacFarland senior as Max did Fleischer.  
  
Logan headed for the door and looked out. The parking lot was still deserted – it appeared as though sanity had prevailed and no one had checked in for the night.  
  
Phillip and Byron stood near him, waiting for the signal to leave.  
  
Logan felt he couldn't leave things unsaid. He knew he'd given both brothers the opportunity to escape, and instead they'd both chosen to put their lives at risk, and for what?  
  
"Why didn't you leave?" he asked them mystified, turning his wheelchair to face them. "You didn't need to put your necks in a noose."  
  
"We couldn't leave Max and Zack at the mercy of my father," said Byron in a surprised voice, "not after all you'd done for us."  
  
"But why the interview?"  
  
Phillip looked directly at Logan and said with great purpose, "We didn't want to see Eyes Only discredited - not when there's so much corruption out there still to expose."  
  
"I guess you could call us 'fans'," put in Byron with a smile.  
  
Logan looked up at them.  
  
He opened his mouth about to make a flippant comment, then abruptly closed it as the enormity of what they left 'unsaid' slowly sank in.  
  
For the moment, he was genuinely startled, eventually getting out, "Right," as a vague reply, and hoping it sounded like an appropriate remark, while his mind grappled with what he 'thought' they had meant.  
  
Sensing Max behind him, he said quickly, glad to end the discussion, "We'd better go."  
  
****************************************************  
  
As the five of them waited at one of the sector checkpoints, a dry unemotional voice announced over the radio that Stuart MacFarland had been found in a motel on the outskirts of Seattle, and taken into custody.  
  
TBC 


	22. Reflections

Sad to say, but for the last time, thanks again to all those who have been so kind to review - you've kept me going with your enthusiasm!!  
  
Very special thanks to Alaidh for all her work – this story is definitely the better for her 'betaing'. Thank you!!  
  
Chapter 22.  
  
By 2am that morning, Logan had arranged with his various contacts new identities and passports to match for both brothers, and thanks to Max, after buying some dye on their way home, different coloured hair to mask their previous distinctive blonde.  
  
Standing back, Max surveyed her efforts with satisfaction, thinking they looked radically improved and less like something out of some old science fiction movie.  
  
By 2:30am she was ready to escort them to a truck driver friend of Logan's who had agreed to take them with him, as his employees, across the border into Canada.  
  
Zack had left earlier, after showing signs of restlessness as soon as they had returned to the apartment.  
  
Logan had been busy at his desk organizing things for the two brothers, who were seated at the kitchen counter sombrely discussing the evening's events with one of Logan's pre-pulse bottles of wine to fortify them, when Max saw Zack standing by the huge picture windows, jacket on with the unmistakable air of one who was determined to leave.  
  
"So, you're goin', huh?" she commented, walking over to him.  
  
He looked at her seriously. "Yeah."  
  
"Thanks for comin' back," she smiled with a touch of sadness. It hurt to think they could never be a family and be together.  
  
Zack stared at her perfect features, feeling the same fear for her that he always felt when he left Seattle. How long would it be before her past caught up with her; how long would it be before Lydecker found her?  
  
Part of him envied the life she had here in Seattle, but the other part of him could only see the danger it presented to her.  
  
If only she'd never met Logan Cale, maybe things would have been different.  
  
As if aware of what was in his mind she said quietly, "What? No 'get out of Seattle' speech?"  
  
He shrugged, reminded of the time they'd stood in this exact place and she had refused to even consider the option of leaving Seattle and her 'miracle boy.' He realized he'd done her an injustice that night – it hadn't been about Logan walking.  
  
"Would it do any good?" he asked yet again, berating himself in the same instant for allowing the tiniest bit of hope to creep in.  
  
"Just don't leave it too long between visits," she told him.  
  
Zack nodded, masking his disappointment. He'd been stupid to hope she'd do the sensible thing.  
  
He could see Logan's reflection in the window as he sat in front of his computers with the phone to his ear, intent on whatever he was doing, and he felt the resentment rise unbidden. It was hard to see past the fact that her, and he struggled with the word 'love', for Logan, could be instrumental in getting her killed.  
  
He still had one string to his bow.  
  
"What about Logan? Lydecker's after Eyes Only now – you think staying around here is safe for him?"  
  
Her eyes flew to his face, and he cringed inwardly at the sudden flicker of something like panic he saw reflected in the rich chocolate eyes.  
  
"All the more reason for me to stay," she told him abruptly, eyes returning to the rain.  
  
Zack nodded, a touch fatalistically.  
  
"I'll be seein' you," he murmured, and before she had a chance to reply, he quickly walked to the door.  
  
Logan looked up on hearing the door close and twisted around to see Max standing alone by the window.  
  
He watched her thoughtfully for a moment, then, unlocking his brakes, he spun around and wheeled over to her.  
  
"Zack's gone huh?"  
  
"Mmm."  
  
"I shoulda thanked him before he left," remarked Logan, thinking privately to himself that Zack probably wouldn't have wanted it.  
  
"I think there was only one type of thanks he would have wanted," mused Max a trifle darkly, unknowingly echoing his sentiment.  
  
Logan looked up at her. He had wondered if that's what Zack had been urging her as they spoke.  
  
Max turned to him and shrugged, as if shaking off her dark thoughts. "I'm not gonna put him in my 'bad books'," she said decisively, "I have too much to thank him for," she added, looking at Logan as she spoke.  
  
He felt himself colouring a little at her words, and said hastily, 'I'd better finish organizing the papers for Byron and Phillip."  
  
***************************************************  
  
Logan had continued to work at his computer till 5am. The adrenalin that had pumped through his body earlier had left him feeling wide awake and edgy, so instead of going to bed when Max left with Byron and Phillip, he'd set about completing some unfinished business.  
  
He'd been in a sound, dreamless sleep for about four and a half hours when he became aware of someone calling him.  
  
Squinting through eyes still heavy with sleep, he was considerably taken aback to see his cousin Bennett standing over him.  
  
"Bennett? What are you doing here?" he asked, not bothering about the fact that his tone sounded less than inviting.  
  
"Bling let me in," explained Bennett, apparently not offended by Logan's cool reception. "I tried to contact you all day yesterday, so when I couldn't, I came over instead."  
  
Logan nodded, wondering dismally what family event he was going to have to endure, unable to think of any other reason for Bennett's visit.  
  
He put his hand out and felt for his glasses, putting them on before pulling himself into a sitting position.  
  
He was beginning to feel remarkably uneasy.  
  
"You look like hell," remarked Bennett conversationally.  
  
Logan eyed him with mild annoyance. "You're the second person to tell me that when I've woken up lately."  
  
Bennett grinned. "Was the other person a girl by any chance?"  
  
"No," was the cold reply.  
  
"You seem to get on well with Max. I just thought..."  
  
"Well don't think. It's not like that between us," responded Logan quickly, wondering why he had to face all this when his eyes had barely opened.  
  
Bennett just smiled at him. He wasn't stupid, but unlike his more mercurial cousin, harder to offend.  
  
"So, you didn't just drop by to comment on my appearance?" prompted Logan.  
  
Bennett's expression suddenly became serious. "It's about Melody."  
  
Logan felt his own expression of careful indifference freeze, his mind searching desperately to find the answer as to how Bennett could have known about his involvement in Melody's death.  
  
He was only half aware of Bennett's voice continuing on "... so Marianne thought it would be a really nice if you'd agree to participate in the ceremony at her funeral."  
  
"What?" Logan said sharply, as Bennett's words finally penetrated his own babble of thoughts.  
  
"It's today, two o'clock." Bennett took one look at him, then started again with exaggerated patience. "Marianne is helping Melody's parents organize it – they were just too distraught," he added feelingly.  
  
Something stabbed hard at Logan. Not wanting to meet Bennett's eye, he kept his head down, intently studying the blanket he now gripped tightly in one hand.  
  
"Marianne thought it would be nice if you would read one of the Bible passages she's chosen. She's trying to get an assortment of Melody's friends from the different phases in her life involved."  
  
Logan's eyes flew to the door as if hoping for some sort of rescue from Bling, but when that didn't happen, he simply said very quickly, "I can't."  
  
Undaunted, and probably expecting his answer, Bennett was prepared for battle. "All you have to do is just read 'one' passage and wheelchair access isn't a problem."  
  
Shifting his stare to the two mounds that were his legs beneath the blankets, Logan made a hasty decision to get more sleep from now on so that he'd be prepared for situations like this.  
  
"It's not that, Bennett," he heard himself saying.  
  
His cousin had sat down on the edge of his bed, completely unperturbed by Logan's response. It had been the same when he'd asked him to be Best Man at his wedding.  
  
Logan threw a quick glance at Bennett, wishing he were in his wheelchair so that he could simply turn away and refuse with his standard line of, "I've got work to do." It was so much harder to say, "No," directly to someone's face, and any excuse sounded all the more lame, he reflected, annoyed to find himself in this predicament.  
  
"Bennett ..."  
  
"And Dad won't be there," cut in his cousin. "You remember that old friend of his, 'Mac'?" As Logan nodded mutely, he continued, "Apparently he's got himself in some sort of trouble. The report is that he's the one behind those vigilante raids that Eyes Only was being blamed for. Poor Mel," he finished. "She really had 'that' one wrong."  
  
Logan nodded again, wondering if his face was betraying him.  
  
"So Dad's busy with all that. I think he had some investments in Mac's companies."  
  
Bennett smiled at him, saying persuasively, "So you see, there's nothing to worry about."  
  
Watching Logan, Bennett suddenly became suspicious, knowing that his cousin was always remarkably adept at hiding things from them all. "You 'are' okay aren't you? Of course, if you're not well Logan I wouldn't expect you to do this."  
  
It was the perfect out. All Logan had to do was agree and he'd be out of the whole predicament, out of the situation of having to meet grieving relatives and friends and pretend he shared their loss. He just had to agree.  
  
"No, I'm fine." The words came out on autopilot. It was his standard response.  
  
Logan wondered why it seemed easier to face being thrown off a building as compared to having to manage a firm 'no' to his own cousin.  
  
*******************************************************  
  
"Sorry about that," said Bling, popping his head around the bedroom door after Bennett had gone. "He was already on his way in to see you before I even had a chance to say you were still asleep."  
  
"That's Bennett," grunted Logan, sliding into his chair. "He's crafty in a quiet sorta way."  
  
Bling studied Logan for a moment, watching him as he settled himself. "Did he bring bad news?" he tried, well aware that Logan was doing his 'clam' impersonation.  
  
"Nothing I can't handle," Logan responded curtly, pushing on through to the bathroom to take a shower.  
  
Bling looked at the closed door with a resigned expression, then looked up, surprised, as he heard the doorbell. Logan didn't usually have a lot of visitors. Two in one day in the space on an hour was even more unusual.  
  
It was with a certain amount of caution that he opened the door, but was pleasantly surprised to see Candy standing there.  
  
"Hi," she smiled.  
  
"Did you find your cat?" asked Bling.  
  
Candy nodded. "It took me forever though and I was so mad at her by the end! Um, do you think Logan has any flour?" She held up a cup in her hand. "I'm half way through a recipe and just realized I haven't got any."  
  
"Sure. Come on through and I'll get you some."  
  
Naturally it took a while to find the flour, and then they had to discuss in great detail what recipe she was trying and the difficulties of having a strong-willed cat, (which Bling couldn't add to much, but he did know what it was like to have a strong-willed employer.)  
  
Eventually Candy took her leave, and Bling was very surprised to find that fifty minutes had gone by, which made him wonder with a frown why Logan was taking so long in the shower.  
  
He'd only just entered Logan's room when he thought he heard a clattering noise from the bathroom.  
  
"Logan, you okay in there?" he called sharply.  
  
The door opened and Logan came out, dressed in cargo pants and a t-shirt. "I just dropped something," Logan told him, then with a distracted air, turned around again to get a sweater from his wardrobe.  
  
Bling followed him in, deciding he'd given Logan long enough time to stew. "You wanna talk about it now?"  
  
Logan paused for a moment before he grabbed his thick light brown sweater and pulled it over his head.  
  
Bling stood and watched him patiently while Logan silently pulled out a pair of shoes and some socks and dumped them on his lap, knowing better than to rush him. It wasn't until Logan had wheeled back to his bedroom that he looked up at Bling and told him what Bennett had wanted.  
  
Bling let out a slow whistle. "Kinda puts you in a difficult position," he said sympathetically.  
  
"'Difficult'? That's an understatement," he responded derisively. "If it hadn't been for 'me', she wouldn't be dead."  
  
"Seems to me you didn't 'ask' her to get herself involved in all that went down," said Bling to him reasonably, smoothing the blankets while Logan put his shoes and socks on.  
  
Logan leaned forward, elbows on his knees, considering his feet. He'd showered, dressed, brushed his teeth, even considered shaving, but all he'd managed to do was fill in time – he'd certainly found no peace or answer to the situation.  
  
"I don't think I can do this," admitted Logan with a quiet honesty, briefly looking up at Bling.  
  
Bling raised his brows at that, watching Logan press his thumb into the palm of his hand distractedly. He'd seen Logan struggle over many issues in the months he'd known him, but he'd rarely known him to admit defeat easily.  
  
"You could always back out," suggested Bling.  
  
Logan shook his head. "No," he said with a deep breath, "I don't wanna let them down, considering what they've all gone through already. The way I hear it, Marianne and Melody had become more like sisters."  
  
'You've gone through a lot too in the last few days,' thought Bling looking at him.  
  
Logan shifted his gaze to his hands, but the image he saw clearly in his mind was Melody's body lying on the floor, twisted in the unnatural position of a violent death, blue eyes staring with what would have been wide eyed terror as she beheld the face of her attacker in those final moments of torment.  
  
Running a hand with frustration through his hair he snapped, "How do I do this knowing she was willing to make 'me' her news scoop?"  
  
In his efforts to stop MacFarland he'd put aside all his emotions about Melody's death. It was easy to leave issues unresolved if you concentrated hard enough on something else, and he knew he was an expert at that. The only problem was they had a frustrating way of surfacing again just when you thought you were free of them.  
  
Melody.  
  
He couldn't decide if his overwhelming sentiment was anger that she was willing to betray him, or guilt that in some way he'd been responsible for her death. Whichever way you looked at it, both left him extremely reluctant to meet those who had cared and loved her.  
  
"Looks to me like you're stuck with it," remarked Bling, then continued mildly, "Why don't you take someone with you for moral support?"  
  
Logan gave him a sideways glance, knowing exactly what he was suggesting.  
  
"I'd go with you myself if I could, but I've got an appointment the other side of town at 2:30."  
  
"It's fine, Bling," replied Logan. Feeling the need for some action, he unlocked his brakes and pushed through to the living area with practised ease.  
  
"What about Max?" Bling suggested, following him.  
  
Logan leaned forward and picked up one of the books that lay on his coffee table. "She didn't exactly 'take' to Melody," he answered, moving to the bookshelf to put the book away. "Besides, she's got work."  
  
Bling's eyebrows rose skeptically. "That's never stopped you paging her before, and I don't think it would be Melody that she'd be going for," he pointed out to Logan. "It's worth thinkin' about," he finished, leaving the sentence hanging in the air like a subliminal message, before returning to the towels he'd been folding on the exercise table.  
  
Putting the book away, Logan headed to his phone. It slightly irritated him that Bling could read him so well.  
  
***************************************************  
  
"Hey Bling. Logan around?" asked Max in some surprise when she couldn't find him at his desk or in the living room.  
  
"Did you know he's been paging you all morning?"  
  
Max made a face. "The batteries on my pager died. At least I think it's that. It's been playin' up on me all morning."  
  
The ringing of the doorbell interrupted them and Max, who was closest, walked over and opened the door.  
  
She was very surprised to see a dark haired, blue eyed, slim girl, perhaps a few years older than herself.  
  
"Can I help you?" she asked politely, one hand on her hip, her smile perhaps not quite as sincere as it could be.  
  
"I just wanted to return this to Logan," replied the visitor, holding out a cup with what Max took to be flour.  
  
"You do cooking classes together or somethin'?"  
  
The other girl looked a little bemused, quickly hailing Bling with relief when she saw him coming towards her, behind the rather exotic dark haired beauty with the 'attitude.'  
  
"Candy," smiled Bling, looking from her to Max, a flash of understanding in his own dark eyes.  
  
Introducing the two young women to each other, Bling said to Max with a slight emphasis on one word, "Candy is a friend of 'mine' who lives in the building. She just dropped by this morning to borrow a cup of flour."  
  
"Oh," popped out Max, cautiously allowing a tiny bit more warmth to her plastered smile.  
  
"Are you still up for coffee tomorrow?" the vivacious brunette asked Bling.  
  
"Nice, but a bit dippy," opined Max to herself.  
  
"Looking forward to it," returned Bling, thankfully closing the door having said goodbye.  
  
"So what was Logan blowin' up my pager for?" asked Max, quickly returning to their previous conversation. "D'ya know?"  
  
Picking up his own jacket to leave for his appointment, Bling filled her in on Bennett's visit.  
  
"What time is the funeral?"  
  
Hopeful, Bling told her where and what time. "He had to be there early to run through what he had to do."  
  
Max nodded. "How did he seem when he left?' she asked with meaning.  
  
Bling thought for a moment. "I'd say he had his 'I've got it all under control' act on but ..."  
  
It was the 'but' that did it for her. "Gotta blaze," she said, and was gone.  
  
*************************************************  
  
Max walked up the steps to the church with mixed feelings. She'd never been to a funeral before, and wasn't quite sure what to expect. On the other hand, she considered, it was better to be going to the funeral of someone like Melody Banks rather than someone she cared about.  
  
Stopping at the doorway to look inside, a man passed her a booklet with Melody's picture on it. Max took it expressionlessly, then entered the church, her eyes searching to find Logan.  
  
It was an old building, all stain glass windows, and wooden pews worn with decades of churchgoers and dewy-eyed plaster statues of people she didn't know who all seemed to be gazing soulfully heavenward.  
  
Melody must have been popular, she mused, because with only a few minutes to go there was barely a spare seat anywhere, and people were already standing along the side.  
  
An organist played a melancholic piece that accentuated the overall atmosphere of sadness that seemed to pervade the building.  
  
Max could see Logan to the right of the front pew.  
  
Seeing him there, she suddenly felt nervous. She had just taken Bling's word for it that he had wanted her there, and she'd rushed home and changed into her brown pantsuit without giving it another thought. Now she struggled with a nagging doubt – what if Bling had it wrong? What if Logan had been paging her about something else? Maybe he didn't want her here at all. For a moment she contemplated running; Logan need never know she'd been there.  
  
In that instant, Logan looked her way and she knew with a lurch in her stomach that it was too late to escape.  
  
She gave him a small smile, that was answered by a surprised one from him that made her own smile waver for a second until she saw him put his hand up and motion for her to come to him, and now she could clearly see a look of relief on his face.  
  
"Bling told me," she whispered to him, as she sat down at the end of the seat next to his wheelchair in answer to his questioning look.  
  
"Thanks for coming," he smiled back tensely.  
  
She had no chance to say more as everyone stood at that moment for the beginning of the ceremony. Max's eyes went instinctively to the coffin in the center of the aisle, draped in an abundance of white flowers.  
  
Looking to her left she could see who she assumed were Melody's parents looking at the coffin with strained grief-filled faces. No wonder Logan didn't want to do this, she thought, finding it difficult herself to see such naked pain.  
  
She stole a quick look down at Logan, but not surprisingly he held himself well in hand, looking particularly handsome in a charcoal grey suit, but the way he rolled and unrolled the booklet of the ceremony told her another story.  
  
Max listened with interest as the ceremony began, surprised to find the man in robes who led the ceremony not maudlin and sombre, but quite upbeat. He even smiled three times in his opening welcome. She raised her eyebrows at that. Perhaps it wasn't going to be so bad after all.  
  
Not paying a great deal of attention to the words themselves because she felt nervous on behalf of Logan, she watched as one of Melody's brothers walked up to a microphone and lectern and began reading from what she took to be the bible. 'Five out of ten' she rated his performance dispassionately.  
  
Next the she watched as the man in robes, priest, vicar, pastor whatever, she mused, did some more of his dealio, then she felt herself tense a little as he introduced Logan, as an old friend of Melody's. "He'll be reading to us from Paul's Letter to the Philippians."  
  
Logan had already wheeled up a nearby ramp and onto the altar in readiness and Max was pleased to see Bennett himself come forward and hand the large book to Logan that had been on the lectern, and pass him the microphone, re- enforcing her earlier opinion that he was probably the only other decent male in the Cale clan.  
  
For a second Logan's eyes met Max's, and then in a voice that was a little huskier than usual probably due to nerves, he proceeded to read:  
  
"Finally brothers and sisters, whatever things are honest, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there is anything praiseworthy, think on these things."  
  
Max listened. She'd always found the way Logan spoke attractive - there was something in the way he pronounced his words that was ... Perhaps because she was in a church the words 'sinfully sexy' came to mind. 'Whatever' she thought, holding back a smile and reflecting that he could read the whole damn bible to her if he liked as long as he read it like this.  
  
*********************************************************  
  
"Thank you so much for joining us, Logan," said Mrs Banks, taking his outstretched hand in a warm clasp. "You've no idea how much we appreciated it. I know Melody always held you in such high regard"  
  
Max watched Logan closely, amazed as ever that he could hide his emotions so well to so many people, but over the last few months she'd come to recognize the other telltale signs.  
  
Logan managed to smile and murmur something appropriate back, before some other old friend that he hadn't seen in years accosted him, and he had to endure the polite questioning about his 'accident' and brush off their sympathy, then agree with them how tragic Melody's death had been and what a wonderful reporter she'd been and yes they'd all had such good times together.  
  
Max stood by his side, for the most part just smiling hello and listening with interest to these people from Logan's past as he slipped into his other persona that was more 'Cale' than 'Logan'.  
  
Max was just wondering how long he'd be able to keep it up when Bennett and Marianne walked up.  
  
"Thanks so much, Logan," smiled Marianne.  
  
"No problem," answered Logan, hoping they weren't going to ask him to do anything else.  
  
"We're going on to the cemetery now," put in Bennett.  
  
Logan nodded, sincerely hoping he wasn't expected to go there as well.  
  
"Considering how bad the weather is ..."  
  
The rain had poured down all morning and showed no sign of letting up.  
  
Logan quickly put in for him. "You're right Bennett, wet sodden ground and wheelchairs don't mix too well."  
  
"Well, everyone's invited back to our house if you and Max would like to come?"  
  
"Ah, I've got quite a bit of work to do. But thanks."  
  
Bennett smiled at him again. "Keep in touch," were his parting words.  
  
Marianne stepped forward before she left, holding out a medium sized yellow envelope. "Melody's mom gave me these. I thought perhaps you might like to have them."  
  
Logan looked at it and for the moment Max thought he was going to refuse, then he held out his hand saying with what Max noted was a cautious, "Thanks."  
  
Once they'd gone, Logan let go a sigh of relief. "Let's get outta here."  
  
"I gotta get back to work," excused Max.  
  
"Will I see you later?" Logan asked.  
  
"Sure."  
  
**************************************************  
  
"In here," called Logan, for once beating Max at her usual game of surprising him.  
  
He watched her as she strolled into the living room, an admiring gleam in his eye.  
  
"Hey," she said, pausing, waiting for his reaction, her mouth slightly turned upwards with the beginning of a smile. She had expected to find him entrenched behind his computer. It was his usual way of dealing with things.  
  
Logan lay stretched out on his sofa, a few pillows behind him, hands linked behind his neck.  
  
"Hey," he echoed, with a relaxed lazy smile.  
  
"Watcha doin'?"  
  
"Nothing much," he grinned back at her.  
  
Max raised her eyebrows. "Since when did 'The Great Eyes Only' kick back an' feel good about it?"  
  
He shrugged. "I have these relapses every once in a while."  
  
Max looked toward the kitchen. "So what have you got me for dinner?"  
  
Straight to the point as always where her stomach was concerned, thought Logan.  
  
"It's in the oven staying warm – if you wanna get it out."  
  
"Fine," she responded. "What've we got?" she sung over her shoulder as she headed to the kitchen.  
  
"Leftovers," admitted Logan, feeling a tad guilty.  
  
Max swung around again. "First kickin' back, and now you're servin' me leftovers? You got a fever or something?"  
  
"Is this bad?" he asked tentatively.  
  
"Sounds like a severe case of normalcy to me," she admitted with a laugh, adding as an afterthought, "Not to be confused with Normal at work who's anything 'but'."  
  
"Great, 'cause I thought we'd just eat in here tonight."  
  
"Next you'll be tellin' me you wanna come to Crash later!"  
  
"I don't think so," he answered, this time with a touch more of his usual dry manner.  
  
"A girls gotta try," Max said airily, as she brought over the cutlery and glasses that Logan had left out for them.  
  
Logan pulled himself up further, preparing to transfer to his wheelchair, but Max stayed him with one hand up as she waltzed back through to the kitchen. "I got it covered."  
  
"There's some wine on the counter too," Logan called to her, vaguely dissatisfied with himself for letting her do it all, but at the same time feeling unaccountably lazy. He wondered if this is what she'd meant about some men looking for a woman to move their furniture. Maybe there was merit to the idea after all.  
  
Max came back with the two plates that had been staying warm in the oven, and he couldn't help but smile to himself when she put her own plate down after giving him his, and moved the armchair closer to be nearer the table.  
  
"What?" she asked suspiciously, as he hadn't been quick enough to hide his expression.  
  
Recovering quickly, Logan answered, "I just thought it was above and beyond the call of duty for you to come to Melody's funeral this afternoon."  
  
"No big dealio," she shrugged, but with a small pleased smile.  
  
Logan studied his dinner intently before adding, "I just want you to know how much I appreciated it."  
  
Max shrugged again, almost as uncomfortable with his thanks as he was in giving it, the difference being that she would think about each and every word and cadence for some days to come.  
  
"So whatcha do when you got back?" she asked, pausing before taking another bite, and adding, "You know Logan, for 'leftovers' these are pretty darned good."  
  
"The chef accepts your compliment, and offers you another glass of wine."  
  
"Just a little," she accepted, adding, "So?" over the top of her glass.  
  
She bit her lip ruefully while she waited. Couldn't expect him to take a holiday from saving the world and be honest with her all in one night.  
  
"Actually, I finished hacking into Melody's bank accounts," he replied finally.  
  
Max looked up at that. "And?"  
  
Holding the plate in his left hand, she watched him as he began to play with the food still on it with his fork. Definitely too good to last, she added to herself.  
  
"I got the goods on whoever was paying Melody," he admitted unexpectedly to Max.  
  
"Wow," she commented with a double entendre.  
  
He looked up at her quizzically for a moment, but could see nothing in her perhaps 'too' innocent expression.  
  
"Whatcha gonna do about it?" She wondered if he could make it three out of three.  
  
"Probably nothing," he admitted, wondering how she'd take it.  
  
"Logan, this gives you the chance to clear Eyes Only's name once and for all," she objected.  
  
Logan nodded, leaning across to deposit his plate on the table and pick up his wine glass.  
  
"I kinda liked what Paul said," he told her, watching as he swirled the wine around in the glass.  
  
"Paul who?" asked Max, a little annoyed with how the whole thing was going. Just when I think I have him sorted out, he goes and does this!  
  
"You weren't paying attention," he chided her.  
  
Max gave him a 'what are you on about?' stare.  
  
"At the church, the passage I read."  
  
"Oh! 'That' Paul," said Max, now enlightened. "It was hardly the kinda stuff Manticore was big on," she added tartly, not mentioning the other major distraction had been his alluringly sexy voice.  
  
"Guess not," he added understandingly.  
  
A little self-consciously he brought the yellow envelope out from behind his back and tossed it onto the table in front of him.  
  
"Marianne gave me these today."  
  
Seeing his nod of assent, she put down her fork and picked it up, pulling out three photos. They were the ones she'd seen in the album at Melody's apartment. She glanced at Melody and Val, but it was Logan she studied. A younger Logan, still with messy hair and steel framed glasses, but it was his smile that was different, and for a moment she felt jealous that the two women in the photo had shared him that day.  
  
Aware of Logan watching her, she looked up, and he unexpectedly smiled at her, and for a second, she saw something of the smile that was in the picture: wide, untroubled - even innocent. She wondered who or what had robbed him of that smile: the Pulse, Val, Uncle Jonas, Bruno Anselmo?  
  
Anyway, for whatever reason, it seemed to be back tonight.  
  
"So just what 'did' this 'Paul' say?"  
  
"It's really kinda simple," Logan shrugged, wondering if she was going to shoot it down with her sharp Manticore wit. "Remember the good things."  
  
Max went back to her thoughts when she'd left the hospital the morning after Logan had been drugged and he'd pulled through okay, remembering her own reflections that morning.  
  
"You know, it's funny you say that, 'cause I kinda came to the same conclusion myself," she confessed, it now being her turn to feel self- conscious.  
  
"I just figured there'd been enough mud slinging and," he paused, frowning slightly, as if reliving his decision, "I guess I had to decide which Melody I wanted to remember."  
  
Max nodded.  
  
"'So'," he emphasized, "I decided to go with 'that' Melody."  
  
His eyes rested on the photo in Max's hand.  
  
"Hey," grinned Max, "Maybe this 'Paul' guy knew a thing or two."  
  
"Yeah," he replied, his grin answering hers. "'Maybe'."  
  
**************************************************************  
  
THE END  
  
A big thanks to all of you who have read and hopefully enjoyed! I'd love to hear the feedback in a review from anyone who has read this fic, (It may inspire me to write more!) My thanks in advance for all those who are kind enough to review!!  
  
Thanks again to Alaidh - all your late nights have been very much appreciated! 


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